


Running

by kuonji



Category: Free!
Genre: Asexual Character, Character with Asperger's (tagged for representation not plot), Coming Out, Exploration, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Time, Following Tags Contain Spoilers - stop reading now to avoid, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Jealousy, M/M, Nanase Haruka & Tachibana Makoto & Tokyo (Post-Season 2 Canon Divergence), Pining, Protectiveness, Shame, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-03-20 18:02:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 103,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13723086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuonji/pseuds/kuonji
Summary: "We can't force things to stay the same, but we can keep the things that matter."That was what Makoto promised Haru, before they embarked on their journey as university students in Tokyo.Makoto and Haru have been inseparable friends since they were practically babies. Growing up, however, means that they have to learn new things about themselves and each other. Relationships of all sorts are sometimes not quite as they thought. They come to realize that change is not a bad thing. In fact, it can lead them to something they never knew they wanted.Ch. 14: Happily ever afters don't happen by themselves, but that makes them no less magical.





	1. Part I: Nobu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He'd been avoiding his friend for days, and he had no good explanation for it._

* * *

**PART I: Nobu**

* * *

  


Makoto took the beach on his way back. Navigating the loose sand took more effort and concentration. His ankles were sore by the time he hit the road again, and then it was the slopes and stairs up to his house taking his breath away. He didn't let himself slow until he was nearly to Mrs. Tamura's house.

When he'd pulled himself, panting heavily, to his destination, he saw a familiar figure descending towards him. They both stopped.

"You went for a run," Haru said. _Without me_ , hung in the air.

"I needed to clear my head."

Haru frowned but didn't press. "Auntie asked me over for dinner. She said we could compare our final lists before DHL picks up the boxes on Thursday."

"Oh, right." He'd forgotten. That was unlike him. Haru followed him up through his gate into the front yard. He felt his friend's eyes on his back the whole way.

Ren opened the front door before they reached it, probably having heard the gate. "Big Brother! Haru-chan!" He latched onto Makoto's arm, despite Makoto's sweatiness. With their big brother's imminent departure, the twins had grown extra clingy. "Can we play together after dinner?"

By habit, Makoto shot Haru a look before replying. Haru tilted his head in a semi-shrug. "Haru and I have to take care of some moving things. Then maybe we can play for a little while, okay?"

"Yay!"

Ren flung his arms around Makoto in a big hug that Makoto automatically returned. Ran came bounding out then, loudly expressing her displeasure at Makoto's attention toward her brother and demanding the same. Then they both wanted a hug from Haru, which Haru dutifully acceded to.

After they finally disentangled themselves and sent the twins off to check on dinner, Haru gave Makoto a rare, open smile. "I'm going to miss them," he said. It was only when his smile blanked out that Makoto realized that he hadn't responded appropriately.

"Yeah," he said belatedly. He gestured inside. "I need to take a shower."

Haru nodded, and Makoto fled.

He took longer than usual, opting to wash his hair thoroughly and use the bath gel he usually didn't have the patience for. The whole time, Haru's puzzled and hurt expression haunted him. He'd been avoiding his friend for days, and he had no good explanation for it.

When he came out of the bathroom, Haru was standing in the hallway, erect and silent like a grim sentry. Makoto had to cut off a shriek of surprise. "Haru! What are you doing here?"

"What's wrong?"

"What are you talking about? Goodness, you could have turned on the light, at least."

"Makoto." Haru blocked his way. His face was determined. "I've let you run away from me before, and it always ended terribly. I'm not letting it happen again."

Haru had changed since they were kids. They both had. Haru was willing to confront him now. Makoto had to have the courage to confront his own decisions and insecurities as well. He took a deep breath.

"After," Makoto told him. Haru hovered for a moment longer, perhaps ascertaining his sincerity, then dropped his gaze and stepped aside.

***

What with dinner, and then discussing preparations with his parents, and then spending time with Ran and Ren, it was late before they settled in Makoto's bedroom. They set up Haru's futon first, then Makoto turned on the game machine.

"How about Flash Excitement Warrior Bird Attack?" suggested Haru quietly, when Makoto dithered over his collection of games.

It was a good choice, a mostly brainless action game with a loud soundtrack. Makoto pulled it out of its case and put it in, then got back on the bed next to Haru while it loaded.

As usual, he chose the Sparrow Hawk while Haru chose the Gyrfalcon. He set the game to easy and chose the first co-op scene.

They'd gotten to the second treasure mountain before he blurted, "I'm gay." Haru didn't react. He didn't speak for a long time, long enough that Makoto hesitantly asked, "You know what that means, right?" Haru was certainly not dumb the way some people insinuated, but he was sometimes a little sheltered because of how he liked to stay within the confines of his known world.

"You like boys," Haru answered promptly. He was frowning, and Makoto felt his heart rate speed up. He'd never for a serious moment doubted that Haru would accept him, but he was still nervous about what his rather straightforward friend might have to say. "Okay. What else?"

"Huh?"

A bear leaped out at him from a cave and Haru neatly saved him with a shot from his crystal staff. "You were acting strange before you planned to tell me, so that's not what you're worried about." He cut a glance at Makoto. "Not _all_ that you're worried about," he amended.

Makoto kept his eyes on the screen. "I had sex with someone. This afternoon. We've been messing around for the last few days."

This time, Haru turned to stare. It was the Sparrow Hawk's turn to rescue his partner. Even as more enemies converged, the Gyrfalcon didn't move. "Did he hurt you?"

"What? No!" Makoto paused the game. It'd never been the point, anyway.

Haru looked relieved. Then he frowned again. "Then, why...?" He studied Makoto for a few seconds, and Makoto wasn't sure what he was showing, but Haru's face cleared. "You're ashamed?"

"I don't know." He was Tachibana Makoto. Little Mako-chan. Sweet Makoto. Good Makoto. The model student and son and big brother. He should be going to college, focusing on his studies, then maybe meet a nice girl, date for a reasonable amount of time, get a sensibly stable job before he got married and had children. Not... this. "I feel like I should be."

Haru knew him well enough that that was enough for him to understand. "You don't have to be good all the time."

"I know." He looked down at his hands, still gripping the controller. The hard plastic felt comforting but also strangely childish in his big hands. "I should have waited."

"Until Tokyo?"

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you?"

"I don't know." He felt a blush rising. He knew why. "We're both leaving town for college. I thought it'd be harmless." And he'd been so curious. And horny. Reckless. Letting out a breath, Makoto set down his controller and leaned over to his nightstand for his phone. He opened it to his text messages and then passed it to Haru. "Nobu sent me this, after." He averted his gaze. His ears felt on fire.

"Incredibly, you're even more sexy out of your clothes. Those abs are unbe--"

"Haru!" He slapped a hand over Haru's mouth. "Not out loud," he hissed, looking to the wall that abutted the twins' room.

His supremely unimpressed best friend waited patiently for him to take his hand away, before observing in his disconcerting monotone, "You do have a great body. If he's your boyfriend, I don't know why you don't like him saying so."

"He's not my boyfriend." Makoto rolled his eyes at himself before directing Haru to the relevant part. "Look at the last sentence."

Haru's eyes returned to the (embarrassingly long) text extolling Makoto's physical virtues. "Oh."

"I don't know how to answer."

"I don't think you need to."

"But I don't _want_ him to tell anyone."

"He didn't say he was going to."

"But what if he does?"

"He can't possibly 'tell the whole world he fucked--'"

"Haru!"

"I'm pretty sure he's only being rhetorical." He handed the phone back.

Rereading the text for the umpteenth time, Makoto had to agree. Still...

"You could tell him not to tell anyone, if that's what you want."

"That seems rude."

"I don't see why. Anyway, you just said he's not your boyfriend."

"Yeah, but..." Makoto closed his phone and let himself flop back on the bed. He put an arm over his eyes. "I know there's nothing wrong with me being gay. At-- At least, I don't think it's my _fault_ , exactly. But I don't want anyone to know. What does that mean?"

Haru was quiet for a while. "It doesn't feel good to be gossiped about. That's normal."

Makoto turned his head to look up at his friend, the boy he'd known all his life.

If Makoto was the Good Boy, Haru was That Strange Child. After his parents had gone to Tokyo, the rumors had only gotten worse. People speculated outrageously about why they'd left their only son behind. Makoto had heard whispers ranging from "they want to move away and adopt a new kid" to "his dad's having an affair and can't be left alone". Now that Haru was a championship high school swimmer pursuing a professional sports career, the rumors had mostly shifted to positive ones, but Haru was an intensely private person. Makoto knew he hated all of it.

"You're right. I don't know why I didn't realize that sooner."

"You were distracted." Haru smiled. It was the soft one that Makoto liked to think belonged just to him -- a kind of indulgent yet admiring expression. Haru put his controller down on the floor and laid back next to Makoto. He turned on his side so their eyes met. "There's nothing wrong with you, Makoto."

Makoto felt yet another wave of heat assaulting his face, but this time spreading across the rest of his body as well. "Thank you, Haru." His gaze dropped down to his hand, which he suddenly realized had fisted around a fold of his sheets. "Don't you feel weird, now that you know?"

"Why?"

"We're lying in bed together, Haru."

Now Haru looked slightly disturbed, half rising. "You didn't have sex _here_ , did you? And if you had, you would have washed--"

"Haru!" he whisper-shouted for the third time that night. "That's not what I meant."

Haru looked blank for a moment more. Then he scowled in understanding and settled back down on the bed. "You would never do anything to me."

"Aren't you afraid I might want to?" He smiled just a bit teasingly. "You're very attractive, Haru, and I've been bigger than you for years now."

The whole idea seemed foreign to Haru. He looked first perplexed, then disdainful, and finally annoyed. Apparently unwilling to dignify Makoto with a verbal response, he huffed and looked away. After a while, he asked, quietly, "How did you know you were gay?"

The question wasn't entirely unexpected. For all that Haru preferred to remain aloof to the world, he always made an effort to understand the people he cared about. "I guess I just-- figured it out eventually. There were lots of things."

"Like what?"

"Hm." He wasn't quite sure how to articulate it all, until Haru raised his eyes to meet his again. That familiar anchor helped him organize his mind. "Sometimes I'd get all flustered in situations where other boys didn't, or I would feel fine in situations where other boys got uncomfortable. I thought at first I was just more romantic, or more easily embarrassed." Haru quirked a smile. "Yes, I know I am those things, _too_. But it was also, I didn't feel like I fit in right. When people talked about relationships and, and things... Having a family always sounded nice, a wife and kids to come home to, but I couldn't quite picture... I've never met a girl that..."

"You only get hard for boys," Haru concluded bluntly.

"Haru..." His embarrassment quota having been used up for the evening, Makoto could only sigh.

Haru watched him carefully, and his eyes were blue and bright. He reached out suddenly and touched Makoto's lips, as if shushing him. "Did you kiss him? Nobu?"

"Yes," he answered, startled but automatic. He didn't try to draw away. Haru's finger was cool, the pressure barely discernible. Although they rarely touched directly, they were comfortable with each other when they did so. This gesture felt strangely familiar, like all the hundred little ways in which he and Haru interacted with each other as a matter of course.

"Do you like kissing?"

Makoto decided on the simplest answer. "Yes."

"Did you like the other things, too?"

Even though Makoto was blushing, he found that his voice was steady as he answered, "Yes."

Haru's eyes clouded with anxiety. He withdrew his hand and curled it protectively at his chest. "If you get a boyfriend, you'll let me know, right? You won't keep it a secret?"

"I won't. I'll make sure to tell you first thing."

"Okay." Haru's hand clutched the front of his shirt, over his heart. "I don't think I like boys," he said, barely above a whisper. After some visibly painful deliberation, he said, "I don't think about stuff like that." His gaze dropped briefly to Makoto's lips, then skittered away down to his own drawn up knees.

Makoto's heart constricted with a mixture of abrupt understanding and sympathetic pain. "Nothing's wrong with you either, Haru."

Haru shook his head. His dark hair spread across the bedspread in an angry arc. "I don't care. A girlfriend or a boyfriend would be too much trouble. I just want to be myself."

"That's perfectly fine. Plenty of people don't care about sex."

"But _you_ do."

"Well. I--" The boy who had just spent the better part of the past week drenched in carnal debauchery could hardly refute that. Despite his reluctance to talk about it, he had enjoyed it. A lot. He wanted to do it again, with other boys, other men, in other ways. The strength and direction of those urges scared him but also exhilarated him. They didn't fit in with the mental picture that everyone who had watched him grow up had of him, yet they felt true and real, like they were something he'd finally found and wanted to hold on to. He still wasn't sure how to reconcile those conflicting parts of himself.

Clearly, though, Haru hadn't meant what he'd said as an accusation. He darted a contrite look at Makoto's face before turning into the arm pillowing his head. "I don't want you to stop being yourself," Haru said, his voice muffled. He moved his hand to the space between them. Makoto did the same, until their outside edges touched. "I just feel like we're getting farther and farther away from each other."

In his mind, Makoto could clearly recall the image of Haru and Rin before and after every race, assessing or verbally sparring or simply looking at each other like there was no one else in the world except them. Very soon, Haru's world would consist chiefly of other people like that -- competitive, driven individualists striving with all their hearts and souls for an ideal of physical perfection. People Makoto would never be.

"I feel like that, too," he admitted, sadly.

"Is this what growing up feels like?"

"Maybe."

"I hate it."

"We'll have good things, too," he reminded both of them. "We'll go to university and experience all sorts of new things. There's so much we'll get to enjoy and learn about. And you'll be _free_ , Haru. That's what you want, isn't it?"

Haru kept his eyes on their hands, side by side. "You'll help kids learn to love swimming. You'll teach other kids to be free, too."

"I hope so, yes. I want us both to achieve our dreams."

"I want that, too."

"Then it'll be all right. We can't force things to stay the same, but we can keep the things that matter, right?"

"You matter to me, Makoto. I don't want to lose you."

Being friends with Haru sometimes felt like walking through a desert. It may seem like a dead wasteland to most people, but if you were observant and patient, you could learn to love the texture and subtle colors of the sand and the plants and animals that flourished above and below the ground and the simple beauty of the cloudless sky. And occasionally, when you least expected it, you came upon an oasis that was so pure and breathtaking you wanted to cry and laugh at the same time.

"You matter to me, too, Haru."

"It'll be all right, then?" Haru questioned, uncertainty lingering in his eyes.

Makoto hooked Haru's pinky with his own. "Promise."

Haru studied their hands. Carefully, he curled his pinky tight around Makoto's.

"Do you want to finish the game?" Makoto glanced at the screen, where two avian treasure hunters were frozen, mid-adventure, beset by magical beasts.

"No. This is fine."

"Okay."

  
END Part I.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is now complete, after five months of toil. Thank you so much to the people who read this first part and gave kudos and especial thanks to those who gave comments! Your encouragement was very helpful. I hope you enjoy the rest of the story.
> 
> ~~This has been kicking around in my head for a while. I have more written to follow, but I'm not satisfied with how it is right now, and I'm hitting a wall and starting to get that angry throw-it-out-the-window feeling. I thought I'd post just this and see what people think. No worries if this isn't your cuppa tea, but please let me know if you do like it and would like to see more. It'd really help my confidence a lot. :)~~


	2. Part II: Shuuji, Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _At the end of the night, Makoto exchanged numbers before saying goodbye, and for several weeks thereafter, Haru was treated to excited chatter about 'Shuuji' amid baffling stories about the 'gay scene' in Shinjuku, which was apparently different from the scene in Shibuya or Ueno or... It all made Haru's head hurt. But it made his heart warm to see Makoto, blushing and laughing and full of wonder._

* * *

**PART II: Shuuji**

* * *

  


Rin sent emails on a regular basis to all of them. Haru knew he should be glad his friend was making such efforts to stay connected, but sometimes it felt like another needless pressure on his life. The group emails that they all sent back and forth, he could mostly ignore. The individual ones, though, he felt he had to reply to. And then the reply to that, he had to reply to, and it just went on and on.

Despite the chaos and stress of their first month of college, with quizzes and homework assignments already coming at them with dizzying speed, Makoto and Haru still tried to meet at least once a week. Makoto looked rather disheveled when he let Haru into his apartment this time, though he perked up at the sight of the takeout bags. Considering what a disaster he was in the kitchen, Haru wondered if his friend was eating properly. Caught up in his own training regimen and exam schedule, he hadn't thought to ask. He made a mental note to remember to do so in the future.

Sitting at Makoto's coffee table and eating dinner together felt satisfyingly familiar. He could see Makoto relaxing into the feeling as well.

"Rei sent me the new training schedule he's devised for the team," Makoto informed him. "I don't know why he keeps asking me for advice. He's putting much more thought into this than I ever did as captain."

"He likes having your approval."

"I'm always ready to give that. He works so hard. He's still helping Nagisa with his studies, too. Rei's really grown up, hasn't he? Both of them have."

Haru agreed. He was proud of their lowerclassmen, too. "Rin emailed me again. He says he's going to send me a countdown every day until the meet in July." He would have continued, but he broke off at a brief flicker in Makoto's expression before it settled into the soft smile and alert eyes that meant amusement. That look on Makoto's face reminded him of something. As often happened around Makoto, he spoke without filtering his first impulse. "Why did you want to race me?"

Understandably confused, Makoto stared at him for several seconds. "Oh!" he realized out loud. Their race last year probably seemed far away to him, now that he'd left the competitive swimming world behind. "I told you. It was our last year and..." He trailed off, and Haru knew Makoto had realized the lie he'd been about to tell. He braced himself for the truth.

For Haru, that race had been a nightmare from start to finish. It'd been like Rin all over again, an imminent car crash that he was part of yet couldn't change. _I can't lose Makoto. I can't lose another friend like this. But this is what he wants. I have to give him what he wants. He's going to hate me, either way. I don't know what to do._ In the end, Haru had only done what had always been his first reaction and last resort -- swim, and hope everything else sorted itself out. It'd been torture.

It was only when he'd heard and seen Makoto laugh with such genuine joy after the race ended that he'd finally relaxed. Makoto wasn't Rin, after all. He shouldn't have worried, he'd told himself, and chalked it up to some swim-centric form of graduation jitters on Makoto's part.

Back then, Haru had been so relieved to know why Makoto hadn't done it that he'd forgotten to find out exactly why he had. It was only now that he realized, yes, Makoto _wasn't_ Rin. He would never have challenged Haru for some petty grievance or a meaningless test. He wouldn't even have done it to provoke Haru for his own good. That wasn't the way Makoto's mind worked. They didn't compete against each other like that. They never competed over things that were important.

When the answer came, it was simple. Makoto's face was drawn with remembered sadness as he told Haru, "We were getting farther and farther away from each other, like you said. I could feel a wall building up between us, and Rin was on your side of the wall -- while I wasn't. I just wanted to be in front of you, just for a moment, before I lost my last chance. I wanted you to take me seriously, treat me like an equal for once."

Haru was speechless. He always took Makoto seriously... didn't he? "I never knew you felt that way."

"But that's all in the past now, isn't it? You and Rin are still friends, and you and I are still friends. We're just different, and it's okay. Nobody's better or worse. Right?"

From Haru's experience in all things Makoto, he could tell that his friend was telling the truth. He could also tell that it was a selective truth. Makoto's voice was just a little too bright, and his smile just a tiny bit asymmetrical. Instead of responding to the hazy words that Makoto spoke, Haru thought about how to respond to what Makoto was actually saying.

Before Rin, Haru had always thought he'd be fine on his own. He didn't see any point in having to rely on other people and withstand their noise and expectations. After Rin, after the relay, after Ikuya and Nao-senpai, after Nagisa and the Iwatobi Swim Club, Haru had come to understand the value of a team. Of friends. But even after that, when everyone was pushing him into a future that he'd thought he didn't want, he'd still taken comfort in the fact that he could be on his own if he ever chose to _._ In the worst case, he'd supposed, he'd simply return to his life before the Regionals and the scouts and that whole mess. He'd be alone with the water and he'd be free.

And then Makoto had told him he was going to Tokyo.

It was then that Haru had realized -- he'd never been on his own at all. For his entire life, as far back as he could remember, Makoto had been by his side, his constant shadow. Being without Rin, without Nagisa and Rei, without Kou and Coach Sasabe and all the rest, all that would be painful. Being without Makoto would be literally _unimaginable_.

He'd chosen a university in Tokyo because it had a good swim program and he'd found the coach they'd introduced him to acceptable. He'd be lying if he said being in the same city as Makoto for four more years didn't cross his mind as a large plus in Tokyo's favor.

Words were imprecise and hard to grasp. Speaking extemporaneously was not one of Haru's skills, and his sentences came haltingly. "You're always in front of me. You're always there, Makoto. I take you for granted. I don't mean to. Rin is important to me. We've always pushed each other to be better. He went to a lot of trouble to help me when he didn't have to. He showed me what I was missing, and he made me appreciate what I have and what I can have. I wouldn't be here without him. I wouldn't be here _with you_ if it weren't for him."

Makoto was staring at him, his mouth open. "Haru."

"Let's do something fun for you," Haru suddenly decided. "Just the two of us. Pick something. Something completely selfish."

"We don't have to do anything, Haru. Just hearing you say that is enough for me."

Instead of going to the trouble of convincing Makoto verbally, Haru simply glared flatly at his friend until he relented.

"Well, I guess, if you really don't mind, I did want to try..."

***

Something that people often misunderstood about Makoto was that he wasn't lacking in self-confidence. He scared easily, yes. He was humble to the point of shyness, and he was chronically bashful. Despite his unassuming manner, though, Makoto knew what he was good at, and he knew what he liked. Given a space where he felt comfortable, he could quite enjoyably compete, perform, and show off. He liked to dance. He even liked to sing. He liked to make other people laugh and feel good. He also liked to buy nice clothes when he had the chance, and while he didn't have an extensive wardrobe, he could put together an outfit pretty well when he put his mind to it.

Which was all a long and vaguely complimentary way to explain why, for the better part of their first Golden Week vacation in Tokyo, Haru wound up exploring bars and clubs with Makoto. Some had live bands, while others had DJs. Some had elaborate decorations, while others were mostly bare concrete and purposely exposed brick. Some had techno gimmicks, while other were more traditional. All were a little bewildering to Haru.

The first time Makoto falteringly navigated them to a gay bar was very nearly the last. The minute they stepped inside and Makoto got a good look at what the employees and many of the patrons were wearing, he blushed red to the roots of his hair and begged Haru to leave. Haru was adamant, however. They'd paid their cover fees. He was going to stay and get his money's worth, Leather Night or no.

Unsurprising to anybody who actually knew Makoto, the friendly green-eyed boy with the shy smile soon struck up a conversation with several of the other younger patrons. Haru, meanwhile, refrained from rolling his eyes and dragged up a 'thank you' when one of Makoto's new best friends -- a slightly rakish-looking boy who was one year older and attending a different university -- bought everyone drinks. He was the picture of politeness.

At the end of the night, Makoto exchanged numbers before saying goodbye, and for several weeks thereafter, Haru was treated to excited chatter about 'Shuuji' amid baffling stories about the 'gay scene' in Shinjuku, which was apparently different from the scene in Shibuya or Ueno or... It all made Haru's head hurt. But it made his heart warm to see Makoto, blushing and laughing and full of wonder.

***

"Shuuji and I broke up," Makoto announced one day.

Haru was supposed to say something commiserative, he was pretty sure. Makoto didn't look particularly upset, however, so he asked, instead, "Why?"

"He said it was time for me to 'graduate'. We didn't exactly break up. It wasn't really a relationship. He told me that to start with." Makoto was frowning, but more with his forehead than with his eyes, a thinking kind of frown, not a sad one. "He showed me a lot of things that I needed to know. We're still friends."

Haru didn't feel like he could say much to that. Sometimes, Makoto just wanted to be listened to. He acknowledged the news with a glance, waiting until Makoto smiled before looking away.

***

College was a stressful place for Haru. He hadn't thought too deeply about the specifics when he'd decided on this path. He would swim with Rin. He would live with Makoto. It'd seemed simple enough.

The reality was waking up in a single room apartment on the dizzying tenth floor, followed by classrooms of fifty to two hundred strangers, with textbooks that each weighed as much as his entire schoolbag had in high school, on a campus that felt like the size of his entire hometown, after which he would have to navigate a crowded and strident maze of a metropolis to get his dinner and other necessities.

Rin was an ocean and several prelims and regional competitions from Haru's reach. Makoto, while geographically only a train ride away, had settled into a course that was taking him, if not away from Haru, at least on a divergent path that merely curved back to intersect with Haru's on occasion. After a lifetime of living within shouting distance of each other, not having an idea of what Makoto was up to at any given moment was discomfiting.

But then, that journey had already started the summer of their first and only fight -- and it was a necessary one that both of them needed to take to reach their respective dreams. Haru comforted himself with the memory of their promise. Makoto kept his promises.

Absent his team and his best friend, swim training was where Haru felt most at home. True, the regimen was stricter, the structure more rigid, the team larger and louder and altogether more bothersome to have to interact with, but the routines were familiar. Most importantly, the water was welcoming. Hours spent in the pool recharged Haru and reminded him of why he was here. That shining expanse of the Sydney Olympic pool and the idea of others like it beckoned him.

Reluctantly, grudgingly, warily, Haru acknowledged that on his new path, he had new companions.

"You're from Iwatobi High, right? I watched you guys at the regionals. You were really something." It always came back to the relays, somehow. Tanaka Jun was a first-year who specialized in butterfly. The water carried him on his powerful downstrokes and frothed playfully in his wake. He talked constantly and told stories whose truthfulness Haru sometimes had cause to doubt. His fierce loyalty, however, was something Haru readily appreciated, as well as his generosity with snacks and opinions and forgiveness alike.

"I've heard quite a bit about you for a newbie. I'm looking forward to swimming in the same pool with you." Okada Hikaru was a second year on the women's team. Like Haru, she particularly specialized in freestyle, and she'd been the anchor on the women's relay team the year before, winning bronze at nationals. She also swam breaststroke. The water parted easily for her hands and danced between her long toes. Sometimes, she swam a lap with her eyes closed, claiming that it increased her focus. She refused to eat any kind of fish and was prone to giving unsolicited, if occasionally helpful, advice. Despite that, Haru found her personality soothing. 

Of all the people on the team, Haru wound up with a boy with a girlish name and a girl with a boyish one. Nagisa would call it fate.

***

Since meeting Shuuji, Makoto had thankfully excused Haru from accompanying him out. Apparently, the two really did remain friends after 'graduating', because Makoto continued to go out with his new circle of rowdy, energetic partiers.

Makoto wasn't only drinking and dancing, Haru knew.

"Why do you like sex so much?" he asked directly one time, after Makoto related his activities from the weekend. The story involved him, another young man, and the man's irate mother. Haru could somewhat understand wanting to have sex. He was curious about it himself, and he often found Makoto's stories amusing or intriguing. He couldn't quite understand, however, going to all the fuss of preparing to go out week after week, basically to do the same thing all over again, and sometimes ending the night poorly. "It seems like a lot of trouble."

After the mandatory bout of flabbergasted blushes, Makoto tried to explain it. "It feels warm and intimate. I like that I can share all of myself with another person."

"But sometimes you never even see them again."

"That doesn't matter, Haru. In the moment, that's what it feels like. And it's also, I don't know... _powerful_ , I suppose. It's like my whole body is awake and alive. I feel like I'm really, honestly me."

That sounded familiar. Haru hummed, getting it. "You feel free."

Makoto put a fist under his chin in thought. "I don't think I like anything the way you like water. But, maybe. Something like it, anyway." 

After one frightening incident where Ryo, one member of Shuuji's circle, had his drink drugged by someone and was fortunately rescued and escorted home, Haru extracted a promise from Makoto that he would be extra careful, and only ever have one alcoholic drink when he went out. Makoto, shaken, gave it -- but two weeks later was back out there. Haru found it all rather incomprehensible. However, if sex was like swimming for Makoto, he supposed there was nothing to be done.

***

Occasionally, Makoto met him after swim practice so they could eat at the ramen place they both liked next to his campus. After three months, it was beginning to feel less strange to come out of the locker room and see Makoto waiting for him, instead of having the other boy at his side.

"Haru, I met some asexual people over the weekend," Makoto told him once as they directed their footsteps toward their usual dinner. "Would you want to meet them?"

"Why?" Haru asked somewhat testily, irritable at letting their 'new' world intrude on their old one. When he was with Makoto, it was like they created a little pocket of home around them, and he was loath to give that up.

Makoto forged on, as always immune to Haru's bad temper. "Being around other gay people helped me a lot. I know you're not the same, but I thought I'd let you know. Don't worry, I didn't tell them about you."

That was a relief. Turning down offers of friendship was annoying and would have made Makoto feel bad. "I'm fine with who I am."

"I know. I think that's so great."

Haru didn't think he'd done anything worthy of note just by carrying on being himself, but he was happy to accept all of Makoto's squint-eyed, shrugging smiles. He hadn't appreciated them enough, growing up.

***

Unexpectedly, Haru grew closer to his parents after coming to Tokyo. Maybe it was that he was older now, or maybe they had simply missed him while they'd lived apart. Being close by but far enough not to interfere with each other's lives seemed to suit all of them. They even encouraged his choice of career. Haru's parents liked traveling and the prospect of Haru's competitions gave them an excuse to go to new places or to experience old ones from a fresh perspective. They also seemed to have no objections to being parents of an athlete.

"It's a sort of art form, I suppose," his Dad considered. "It'll be a fine thing if you win some medals, but don't feel any pressure, Haruka. Live the way you want to."

"Haruka works very hard and knows what's best for himself. Whatever is important to you is fine with me," his Mom assured him.

He began to share meals with them every two or three weeks and even to spend a few afternoons at their apartment. It was nice to sit in companionable silence with these two people as adults.

***

With the onset of summer break came their first training camp. The atmosphere at practice became increasingly chaotic as the date approached. While Haru was curious to see this high altitude sports facility that the upperclassmen had been gushing about all week, he disliked the disruption to their usual routine and the bother of having to pack and prepare for the trip. He'd be rooming with a third year he barely knew, too, as part of a team bonding effort -- another obstacle to his peace of mind.

"A training camp sounds like fun. That brings back such memories, doesn't it?"

Haru glowered at Makoto, partly because no one should be this excited about someone else's trip, and partly because-- "You nearly drowned on our first one," he reminded his friend acerbically. He folded his favorite swimsuit, annoyed that he hadn't been able to wear it today at practice but more afraid he might forget it from the drying rack when he left first thing tomorrow morning.

"But I didn't," Makoto replied, entirely too easily. "We got closer to each other, and stronger as a team. We built up our stamina like we wanted to, and it was so nice to have those picnics and that bonfire and the speed-eating competition at the end..."

"This one isn't going to be like that. I showed you our schedule." It was definitely more 'training' and less 'camp'.

"Still..." Makoto sighed. "I wish I could go. I miss being on a team like that, and I'd love to meet all your friends."

"You've already met the teammates that aren't too annoying." He zipped up his bag, then unzipped it again to remind himself to add his toiletries in tomorrow.

"You can call them 'friends', Haru. You get along with some of them really well, don't you?"

Haru looked at him blankly, unsure how serious Makoto was being. After all, Makoto still labored under the misapprehension that Haru and Kisumi had been great friends in junior high. Thankfully, despite being in the same city now, Kisumi went to university a ways away. Without a particular sort of accident or Makoto's interference, Haru never had to see him.

Makoto seemed to understand the skepticism he meant to convey. "You can have more than one group of friends."

That gave him pause. He had to admit that, mentally, 'his friends' still consisted of their group from high school. He hadn't consciously put any such labels of intimacy on his acquaintances in Tokyo, but he supposed that some of his teammates could be considered at least somewhat important to him personally.

If people like Jun and Hikaru were his friends, however, they were _his_ friends. For perhaps the first time since he could remember, he had friends who were not also Makoto's. Which meant, he realized, that the converse must also be true. Even out of Haru's sight, Makoto no doubt continued to be Makoto, considerate and free with compliments, eager to please and be pleased. This Shuuji and his group and maybe plenty of people at Makoto's university, too, were important to Makoto now, in similar ways that Rin and everyone (and Haru?) were.

That was a new thought in a city full of them.

***

"Don't wear that!"

Haru sighed, exasperated. "Now, what?" He was beginning to regret asking to go along with Makoto on a night out. If it was going to be this much trouble before he even stepped out the door...

"Some accessories have meaning in these places." Makoto always said 'these places' like it was a secret, even when they were alone. 

"You're wearing the same thing," Haru pointed out. The twin to the leather bracelet that Haru had just discarded was wrapped around Makoto's right wrist.

Makoto ducked his head. "Yes, because it says what I want it to say, but you don't want that. Trust me."

It must have something to do with either sex partners or sex positions. Haru didn't have enough interest to ask for details right now. Despite his open-mouthed delight when Haru had suggested it, Makoto seemed excessively concerned about taking Haru out tonight. After squeaking through the prelims for the Nationals earlier this year, Coach had stepped up Haru's training regimen. It was a pain to keep up, but even an extra weight training session was starting to sound preferable to Makoto's fussing right now. "Is everything else all right?" he asked, standing back for Makoto to look him over.

Black jeans, a white tank top, and a dark blue T-shirt under his light blue hoodie. It seemed generic enough, and equal to the unpredictability of the rainy season. He'd even combed his hair, because unlike Makoto's honey-brown bird's nest, bed head didn't look good on him, and he didn't want to embarrass Makoto in front of his friends.

Makoto, in contrast, had on skin-tight green pants, a white elbow-length Henley, a dark gray shirt with some kind of sparkly buttons over that, and, bizarrely, a black felt fedora with a buckled leather hat band. A green dewdrop pendant hung at his chest and the aforementioned twice-looped leather bracelet accentuated his wrist.

Makoto had kept his orange watch, which Haru found comforting.

"How about a jacket, instead? You might get hot inside," Makoto suggested, and Haru obligingly changed into a jean jacket.

"Now?"

"Perfect."

Haru looked between his outfit, which he might wear to class, and Makoto's, which might look less out of place on the film set of some trendy new TV drama. "Do I look too... normal?" he asked, hesitantly.

Makoto smiled, crinkling his eyes, in response. "That's how you should look. Just be my straight friend, and nobody will try to pick you up."

There was that. "Will your friends mind?"

"No, of course not. They bring their friends, too, sometimes."

It was a smallish group tonight, Makoto told him, just five of them. Shuuji and Ichirou he vaguely remembered from the first time they'd met. The former greeted him with an overly familiar backslap, the latter with a more reserved nod. Kazuhiko, or 'Kazu', a petite brunet with a big smile that reminded Haru of Nagisa, was Shuuji's friend from high school. No one used surnames except Shuuji, who, oddly, called Ichirou 'Wada'. He also greeted Makoto with, "Hey, slut," which made Haru grit his teeth. Makoto, however, merely laughed in a fond way and answered him, "Hey."

It often mystified and frustrated Haru that other people couldn't feel what the water said to them, despite it being quite clear to him, to the point where he couldn't simplify it further into words. Not even his friends understood. Rei could tell you the individual components and the scientific principles that governed them. Rin could sense currents and perturbations in the pool. But none of them could hear the whole. Haru thought that the way he could understand water was probably how other people interacted with each other -- and the way other people couldn't understand water was how Haru couldn't understand people.

They snagged a booth table in what seemed to be a first-come-first-pounce system and ordered drinks off of a surprisingly crisp menu with large font in deference to the dim lighting and the small selection. Haru paid attention and tried to participate as they all chatted over the loud music. 

Shuuji and Ichirou were obviously a couple. They made out aggressively almost non-stop until their first round of drinks arrived. Haru wondered what Makoto looked like when he'd been the one with Shuuji, and if Makoto had also done these types of things in public. Glancing at Makoto, he was relieved to see him blush and avert his gaze quickly to talk to Kazu.

Even having had more practice with understanding Makoto than anyone else, he'd missed things about him before. Important things. He hadn't thought that Makoto would actually become a completely different person in 'these places', but it comforted him that his friend, despite new clothes and friends, was still himself.

There didn't seem to be any awkwardness between the former lovers or between Makoto and Ichirou. That was, upon reflection, expected. Otherwise, Makoto, being sensitive to others' feelings, wouldn't have continued to go out with them.

After drinks, it was apparently time to dance. Leaving their coats at the booth, they all entered the square patch of raised flooring that was about half filled with circles of people. This club had laser lights that continuously sprayed dots and bursts of color over them. Haru spread his hands under them, imagining he was swimming in a pool filled with light. When he looked up, Makoto was smiling at him, as if he knew what Haru had been thinking. Haru put his hands down, but he felt more grounded in this loud, crowded space after that.

Haru could dance, just not with the extravagance that his friends did. The heavy trance-like beat was easy to nod his head to. He tapped his heel on the ground and let his body rock. Mostly, he watched Makoto and the others. Ichirou was the most creative and physically skilled dancer, Shuuji the most enthusiastic. Makoto and Kazu did a bunch of paired moves, almost like they were playing a game or having a conversation with their bodies. It held his interest for a while, until all the dance moves started seeming repetitive.

Makoto still seemed to be enjoying himself, so Haru caught his eye and nodded toward their booth before heading over on his own to sit, with a detour first to the bar where he ordered a club soda. The clock over the bar told him they'd only been here for a little over two hours. It'd felt like longer.

Halfway through his soda, he saw a stranger approach Makoto's group. The man singled out Makoto, pushing his way in next to him and leaning into his space.

Haru tensed. He could see Makoto starting to give off signs of discomfort before he shook his head and turned away. Looking angry, the other man grabbed Makoto's shoulder. Haru jumped to his feet, ready to go over there -- when Makoto whipped around and stared the man in the face. He half-raised his arms and widened his stance, making his large frame, still muscular from years of training, look even larger. Haru couldn't see Makoto's expression from this angle, but he could imagine the transformation Makoto underwent when he dropped into the pool for a race, shedding his pleasant everyday self for the steely focus of a regional-class athlete.

The other man immediately threw his hands up in surrender and backed away a couple of steps before walking away. Makoto relaxed, and only then did Haru relax as well. Ichirou went in close to Makoto to exchange some words with him while Shuuji sneered and shouted something after the rejected man. Haru rocked on his toes, adrenaline still coursing through him. He finished his soda and went back for a bottle of water.

Makoto didn't seem fazed. In fact, he laughed at whatever Ichirou had said, and when the current song ended, he stayed on the dance floor with him and Kazu for the next one while Shuuji went to the bar. Another man, shorter than Makoto but heavily muscled, came up behind Makoto then. Haru tensed again, but this time when the man said something in Makoto's ear, Makoto smiled. They danced together. Haru watched with wary concern as the man's hands began to wander. Makoto responded favorably, however, and the two moved to the beat together, leaving very little space between them.

Instead of returning to the dance floor, Shuuji plopped down across from Haru with his drink -- something that smelled sharply of citrus. As he sipped slowly from the flared glass, he studied Haru. He wasn't being too subtle about it, either.

Haru didn't like it when anyone stared at him, dissecting and analyzing like Haru was some beetle in a grade school nature project. He especially didn't like Shuuji doing it. As far as he knew, he was the first boy to dump Makoto. Haru knew Makoto didn't resent him for that, but Haru couldn't help but hold a small grudge.

"What?" he snapped.

"I'm trying to figure out how jealous I should be."

Haru just frowned at him in incomprehension.

"Were you guys together already when Makoto and I hooked up?"

"Aren't you with him?" Haru asked, nodding at Ichirou, who was teaching Makoto and Kazu one of his more complex moves.

"Hm... it's complicated. I wasn't really 'with' Makoto either, though. What about you?" He raised his eyebrows.

Haru didn't like how cavalierly Shuuji referred to his and Makoto's past relationship. He liked even less that he might think Haru and Makoto were the same way. "We've been friends since we were kids."

"Only friends?"

"Makoto's gay. I'm not," Haru told him simply, the second half of which was probably true though mostly irrelevant, except for how he thought it was most likely to get Shuuji off his case.

Unexpectedly, Shuuji laughed. "The way you look at your 'friend' does not say 'straight' to me."

Haru narrowed his eyes but didn't deign to make a reply.

"Trust me. You are so in love with that man, everyone in here knows it except Makoto. You should just tell him, Haru. Makoto's nice. He won't let you down hard. He might even feel the same way about you."

"That's not the way we are."

"Don't deny your feelings. It comes back to bite you in the ass."

Haru clamped down on his expression and looked the other way, unwilling to engage further.

When the song ended, Makoto left Ichirou and Kazu and came back to the booth, flopping down next to Haru. "Could I?" Haru handed him his water, and Makoto drained it down. "Wow, I needed that."

Haru hadn't been expecting Makoto back so soon, to be honest. He searched the dance floor until he found the muscular man, who was now dancing with someone new. "You didn't want to leave with him?" He'd already told Makoto he'd be fine getting home on his own if something came up.

"Hm? Oh, I might have, but he's not interested."

Haru frowned, confused, and insulted on Makoto's behalf. "He had his hands all over you."

"Oh, no, that was just dancing, Haru. Anyway, I'd rather be here with you."

Haru huffed, feeling lost and irritable. He was ready to go home.

"Do you want to go?" Makoto's ability to read his mind had used to be a topic of amusement for their classmates, but at times like this, Haru was glad to be able to rely on it. He nodded. Makoto leaned over him to tell Shuuji, "Haru and I are heading home. Let the others know?"

"Sure. Good night, Makoto." Shuuji and Makoto kissed on the lips, dry and quick. Haru didn't have the energy to be surprised anymore. He just wanted to go. Makoto slid out of the booth. While his back was turned, Shuuji winked at Haru. "Make sure he stays warm tonight."

He was well and tired of the irritating boy's innuendo. He shoved himself into Shuuji's space and snarled in his face. "Shut. _Up_."

"Hey, hey." Makoto, eyes wide, intervened and tugged Haru away. "Don't provoke him," he scolded Shuuji.

Shuuji waved one hand dismissively. "Go. Calm your boyfriend down. Text me when you get back safe, okay?"

"You, too."

"Nice seeing you again, Haru."

Haru ignored him.

Later, on the train home, Haru decided that Makoto deserved to know why he'd been so belligerent with his friend, who, after all, had probably just been trying to bond. "He thinks I'm secretly in love with you."

"Well, he's certainly wrong about that." Makoto's quick response put Haru's back up as well, which didn't make sense, since it was what he'd been saying himself, wasn't it? As he was distracted, sorting through his own reaction, Makoto leaned in and pecked him on the cheek, something he hadn't done since they were kids.

Haru put his hand to his cheek. "Makoto?"

Makoto, his face still unusually open and slightly wild from the dancing and the heat of the club, smiled his gentle smile at him, a curious mixture of Haru's Makoto and Shuuji's. "Haru loves me openly."

Ah. It wasn't a statement that Makoto would have made normally, but it rang true. Haru never did _anything_ secretly, and he and Makoto were definitely not secret anythings. The realization settled him, enough to put Shuuji from his mind. Enough for him to tease this loose-boned Makoto a bit. "Do you love me back?" he asked.

"Nope. Poor Haru. Pining for me. So sad."

A smile broke through at his friend's silliness. "You're drunk." That probably wasn't true. He'd been watching, and he knew Makoto had stuck to his one-drink rule.

"A little tipsy," Makoto agreed amiably. He giggled behind his fist, settling more fully back into the friend that Haru knew. He found himself thinking that was a shame. Mid-giggle, Makoto yawned and laid his head on Haru's shoulder. "Thanks for coming, Haru. I had a good time."

Haru stayed still so as not to dislodge Makoto from his temporary pillow. He didn't think this was something he'd ever want to do on his own, he'd already decided, but he was glad he'd come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regarding Leather Night, have you noticed the background dancers in the club scene of the Splash Free ending credits? Someone on the staff of animators has an interesting sense of humor.


	3. Part II: Shuuji, Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"It'll be okay. If it's not, I'll be here."_

When their schedules permitted, Haru and Makoto cooked dinner together, generally at Haru's apartment, since he was the undisputed head chef. Makoto's job was to buy groceries, wash vegetables, and keep Haru company while he prepared and cooked.

After planning and making his own meals for three years, Haru had gotten used to having the soothing white noise of bubbling sauces and crackling pan-searing as his only companions. Cooking was a time to focus his mind and movements, but at the same time to free his thoughts to wander, and he liked that. He'd originally thought about cooking with Makoto purely as a way to get his friend to eat more healthily. He found, however, that the activity was as enjoyable as any leisure time they normally spent together. Makoto in his kitchen, chatting about his week beside him, slipped into place as if this had always been the way it was.

This night, Makoto had bought ingredients for mackerel curry. Haru looked in approval at the fish Makoto had chosen, admiring their healthy scales and red gills. Some people felt that after being cooked into something else with a strong flavor, the quality of the fish didn't matter. Some people thought scraps and trimmings were fine for soups and curries. Those people were _wrong_.

He was so distracted by carefully deboning and filleting the fish and then making sure the vegetables were of the perfect proportion to set off the mackerel's flavor, that it was an unfortunately long time before he noticed something important.

Something was off about Makoto.

His friend cleaned the sink of carrot skins and other vegetable scraps while Haru sautéed everything in preparation for the sauce. The pan-fried mackerel lay ready to the side. They'd be using a ready-made curry tonight, though Haru had broth in the refrigerator that they could add to it for a fuller flavor.

He waited until Makoto had washed his hands and was opening the curry package before asking him, "What's wrong?"

Makoto calmly pulled the little squares of roux-set curry out, unsurprised by Haru's question. "I went home with someone on Friday night."

That was hardly surprising news. Haru waited, his eyes on the browning vegetables, giving Makoto space to think.

"We, um... There's a position where..." Done with his task, Makoto brushed his hands off and turned to lean against the counter on the far side of the sink where it was dry -- and farthest from Haru. "He was really excited because he'd never tried it before. It was the first time I'd done something before that the other person hadn't."

"Why does that bother you?"

"Haru, do you think it's bad for me to be such a slut?"

It was strange to hear that kind of language from Makoto. Frustrating and unsettling. It made Haru wonder if the Makoto who went out with other men was someone he didn't know, after all. When he looked up at his friend, however, he realized that Makoto had used the word deliberately. His broad shoulders were hunched in on himself, and though he met Haru's eyes, the muscles of his face were tight and wary. 

Haru turned off the stove and removed the vegetables into a waiting bowl.

"Why are you asking me that?" He put a slight emphasis on the word 'me', knowing Makoto would understand.

"Because I care what you think."

Maybe because they'd met when they were so young, or maybe it was just their personalities -- their friendship had always been characterized by frankness. Neither of them was the sort of person who either picked fights or relied on pretty fictions to interact with each other. Sometimes, Makoto held things back, but they never told each other deliberate lies. So Haru told Makoto the truth.

"I don't like it, because it's dangerous for you. I'd wish you would stop, except for how going out and having sex makes you happy." He moved to lean against the counter next to Makoto. "Lots of things are dangerous. I still like to swim in open water, and you never stop me. So."

The physical idea of Makoto having sex didn't bother him, any more than the thought of his friend lifting weights or playing volleyball. It made him uneasy, however, how reliant the activity was on other people, mostly strangers. People were unpredictable. There were so many unknowns. It made him appreciate better how Makoto felt about the ocean.

"It does make me happy." Makoto hugged his arms. "I wish it didn't."

"Why?"

"I can't tell people about it. Except you. It's not something I can be proud of, like swimming, or even something I can be a little embarrassed about publicly, like video games."

"You like talking about it?" He'd thought it was mostly to satisfy Haru's curiosity.

"I don't like hiding myself." Makoto looked down at his feet, then up again. "I want to tell our friends."

"All right."

"Do you think I need to tell them about... What if they ask if I've slept with anyone?"

"Do you want to lie?" He'd learned that some lies did no harm and made everyone happier. He trusted Makoto to know which was which.

"No." Sighing, Makoto scrubbed his face with his hands. "You're right. Of course, I won't lie to them." Taking his hands away, he said, in a soft voice, "I'm scared, Haru."

This wasn't the kind of fear Haru was used to dealing with. Usually, he'd simply go with Makoto into whatever situation scared him and let him grab his sleeve or walk behind him. If it was something he could do for Makoto, he did it instead. "I could tell them for you." He didn't think that was a good idea, though.

Indeed, Makoto laughed, and Haru relaxed slightly, hearing it. "I'm sorry, Haru. I was just imagining..." Haru pouted, and succeeded in making Makoto giggle some more behind his hand.

Haru shuffled over until their shoulders touched. "It'll be okay. If it's not, I'll be here."

Makoto let his head rest on Haru's. "I'm glad you're here, Haru-chan."

He tsked. "We're college students now. You're still not dropping the -chan?"

"Never."

***

Haru could track Makoto's progress in his 'confessions' from his own inbox.

First, came Rei's politely worded text informing Haruka-senpai that Makoto-senpai had told him the news, and that he knew that Haru already knew it, and he was glad that Makoto had a good friend beside him in these trying times.

Makoto texted him about it shortly after: { _I think Rei is confused. He asked a lot of questions. But he was supportive. I'm so glad._ }

***

That same afternoon, Nagisa left a long, rambling voicemail. The gist of it seemed to be Nagisa recounting every stray rumor he'd ever heard of any boy who might possibly have had a crush on Makoto or could possibly be a good match for him, and which one did Haru like best?

Immediately, he followed up with another voicemail that consisted entirely of him shouting disjointed sentences into the phone. "Oh my gosh! Haru-chan!! Sorry, sorry, sorry!! Are you and Mako-chan--?! I can't believe I didn't think of it! How long? Did I not notice?! I'm so sorry for saying-- Oh, but Haru-chan won't answer. I'm going to call Mako-chan right now. Talk to you later!" and the call cut off.

That evening, out of morbid curiosity, Haru texted Makoto one word: { _Nagisa?_ }

Makoto's reply was also brief: { _Two hours!_ }, followed by a row of emojis depicting blushing, scared, and aghast faces. Then one more emoji, a red-cheeked, smiling one, and a text: { _Everything's okay._ }

***

A few days later, Haru got a text in all katakana from Rin.

{ _TELL THAT SON OF A BITCH MAKOTO TO PICK UP HIS DAMN PHONE!!_ }

Haru narrowed his eyes and texted back: { _If Makoto doesn't want to talk to you he has a good reason. What did you do to him?_ }

A minute went by before Rin's answer came: { _I said some things I didn't mean. Can't you get him to listen to me? He doesn't even have to talk._ }

Haru didn't have to think long about it. { _No._ }

Rin sent a new text, but Haru didn't read it. He was already listening to a ringtone.

Makoto let the call go to voicemail, so Haru waited a minute and called again. He knew Makoto's schedule, and he wasn't in class right now. This time, Makoto picked up. "Hi, Haru. Sorry, I was in the library." His voice was subdued. No fake cheeriness. Haru couldn't decide if that was good or bad.

"Rin is bothering me."

"Oh! Of course, he'd contact you. I'm sorry."

Haru huffed impatiently. "What did he do?"

"He was mad that I didn't tell him before. He yelled a lot. He called me-- He said something about... about how we used to change together." Haru could hear faint sounds of people talking around Makoto, then the staticky sound of wind. He imagined the courtyard in front of the library on Makoto's campus. Makoto was probably sitting on one of the stone benches along the edge.

"When did you tell him?"

"Last night. He's been calling all morning. I should pick up. I'm sure he wants to make up."

"Don't. Let him stew for a while." Makoto didn't say anything directly, but Haru could feel the anxious reproof in his silence. "I'll talk to him first."

"Would you? Thank you, Haru."

Taking a moment to gather himself, he called Rin's number in Australia. The impatient, fire-haired boy picked up before the first ring had finished.

"Are you using a phone card?"

"No. Tell me--"

"Are you nuts? Why don't you use Facetime or something?"

"It's too much trouble. Just--"

"Do you know how much the mobile company is going to charge you, you idiot? I'll call you back."

The call cut off. Haru stared at his phone in frustration and waited. A few seconds later, it rang with a different chime. Seeing a photo of Rin show up, he tapped the green button to pick up. "Well?"

"You're welcome, for saving you a fortune!"

"I'll tell Makoto to erase your number from his contacts." Makoto wouldn't, of course. They both knew that. But Haru might.

"Damn it, Haru, hold on!"

"What did you say to him?" Haru demanded.

"I didn't mean any of it, okay?" Rin blustered back. "I was just surprised. Look, I-- I used to get shit in Australia. From the guys, okay? Because I'm skinny and stuff. I mean, I guess I'm pretty buff next to you and Ai, but... Have you seen these huge-ass foreigners? It's like swimming with a whole class of Sousukes. I looked like a girl next to them, and they weren't shy about letting me know it. And some people have some _weird_ ideas about Asians, let me tell you. Everybody thought I was a ho-- gay. And then Makoto told me, and I started thinking about all the times I was sitting around in my swimsuit in front of him like it was nothing. Shit, I even showered next to him, and he's been secretly looking at guys that way for who knows how long, right? I started getting scared that... that he..."

"You were scared of _Makoto_?" Haru asked, coldly.

"No! I don't know! I don't even take my shirt off in front of girls, and all of a sudden... and he's a _guy_ , and he's _huge_. Why the hell didn't he tell anyone? That's just irresponsible."

"Rin, you're not making sense."

"I just don't want him looking at me, okay? I can't help it. I know it's totally dumb. Of course, he wouldn't-- He's Makoto! The guy's so sweet he hypnotizes demon cats."

"Demon--?"

"The point is, I need to apologize to him, and he won't pick up the fucking phone. I've been skipping class all day but I have practice that started ten minutes ago, and Coach won't let that slide for much longer. Haru, come on, you have to help me."

"I don't have to do anything. This is your fault, and you're not going to make anything better if you start shouting at him again. Send him a text. Or an email."

"Don't be an idiot. I can't put something like this in writing."

"Try. I know you can. You wrote me a letter once."

"What? No, I didn't. Damn you, Sousuke..."

"Fix this. I'm hanging up now." He did so.

After some thought, he sent Makoto a text: { _Rin's sorry._ }

An hour later, Makoto called him.

"Did Rin text you?"

"He sent me a really long email. I think I misunderstood him."

"I think he said some dumb shit that was easy to misunderstand."

"Haru," Makoto admonished gently. "Anyway. He explained everything, and he apologized. A lot. He said he loves me and he feels lucky to be my friend and always would be. Always, until we die, and after. He was very emphatic about that." Makoto didn't speak for a while, and Haru let the silence hang comfortably between them. "He's a very good letter-writer. I almost cried."

"You're crying now, aren't you?"

"Yes," Makoto admitted, laughing with a tell-tale hitch mixed in.

Haru smiled. Rin was a dope, but he was a good friend.

  
END Part II.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regarding demon cats, in [one of the drama tracks](https://youtu.be/L9oqj_q4y94), Rin asks Makoto to help him befriend a black kitten on the Samezuka campus. Naturally, it falls in love with Makoto on sight. It takes a while longer before they manage to get it from biting and scratching Rin to playing with him, and everyone is adorable when they finally succeed.
> 
> Regarding letter-writing, all of you should listen to [this drama story](https://youtu.be/rl1SJX7JKAE), where Kisumi is a horrible, horrible troll and convinces Rin that Sousuke is pining for him, prompting him to write an enormously sappy letter. I only found it with Spanish subtitles, but their voices are very expressive, and Google translate is quite good for Spanish.


	4. Part III: Tatsuo, Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Do you remember, when I promised to tell you if I got a boyfriend...?"_

* * *

**PART III: Tatsuo**

* * *

  


Dating Tatsuo started almost by accident.

They'd met on the Tuesday of the week-long book fair that was the traditional kick-off to the fall semester school festival at Makoto's university. Makoto was looking through the mystery novels laid out on a table, and a man who was nearly his own height, with close-cropped dark hair and sharply defined shoulders, was browsing the same section across from him. They met eyes a few times, and Makoto noted that he had strikingly light eyes for his complexion, somewhere between purple and a light pink. The man smiled at him each time. Finally, he asked Makoto, "Have I seen you at Kokoa?"

He hadn't. It was a pricier place than Makoto was used to and, unlike most places, liable to check for ID -- but he knew what the man was asking. "Maybe," he answered. His skin tingled where those lavender eyes swept over him. "You like mysteries?" He'd never tried picking up someone outside of a space designated for doing so, but it was a familiar rhythm.

"Yeah. They make me think. I'm Tatsuo."

"Makoto."

"I'm going to a seminar soon. Could I have your number so I can be sure to find you later?"

Despite his attraction to the man, Makoto hesitated. The first time a stranger had asked for his number, Makoto had gotten flustered and given it, then regretted it later when he'd received multiple, increasingly demanding texts. So, he shrugged and said as nicely as possible, "Sorry, I'd rather not." It would be a shame to miss this connection, but there would always be others.

"Could I give you my number, then?" Tatsuo persisted. Makoto couldn't see any harm in that, so he typed in the number the other man dictated and showed him that he'd saved it into his address book. "Great. Call me, okay? I'm free after three-thirty today."

Twenty minutes later, they ran into each other at the doorway to Suguwara Cafeteria, both intent on a quick lunch before class. It should have been awkward, but they both found it amusing instead, and so their first date was bland udon noodles and apathetically fried pork cutlets, wolfed down in between smiles.

***

The first time Makoto slept with Tatsuo was that night.

The sex was comfortable and gentle, exactly what Makoto had felt like that evening. They cuddled a while afterward. Makoto let himself nap a bit, and then they chatted about school. Tatsuo was a fourth-year film major who planned to see his name on the big screen one day -- Watanabe Tatsuo, world-renowned director. He got course credits for watching and reporting on four independent films each semester, and he invited Makoto to watch the latest one with him.

One hookup turned into two, and then three, and then more. They did indeed watch a movie together. It was a little unusual for Makoto but it was fascinating to discuss afterwards with the other man, who could explain all the symbolism and history portrayed.

They began not just texting each other times and locations but having brief conversations. When Makoto started to send almost as many texts to Tatsuo as he did to Nagisa, he came to a realization.

The next time he saw Haru, his perceptive friend gave him a long look before asking, "What?"

Makoto cleared his throat nervously and said, "Do you remember, when I promised to tell you if I got a boyfriend...?"

Haru's mouth opened in soft surprise. Then he smiled, the indulgent, proud one that Makoto liked so much. "I'm glad, Makoto." Then, in a move completely contradictory to his usual anti-social personality, Haru said, "I want to meet him."

***

Haru and Tatsuo met for the first time on a Wednesday after all their classes had ended for the day. Makoto took Tatsuo to the ramen place, thinking that Haru would be more comfortable in a familiar setting. It probably made no difference after all, because Haru spent most of the meal simply staring at Tatsuo or occasionally asking blunt questions. Makoto's attempts to draw him into conversation were met with nonverbal or monosyllabic answers.

Fortunately, Tatsuo seemed to take it in stride, treating Haru with bemused tolerance. Makoto knew his friend could be off-putting to the uninitiated, and Haru seemed to be frustratingly uninterested in being social.

"I don't like him," Haru declared later, after they'd walked Tatsuo to the train station, Makoto making an excuse to stay behind.

"Why not?" Makoto tried not to make his tone critical, but it was rather difficult. Haru sometimes formed a stubbornly negative opinion about a person for unexplained reasons.

Haru was silent for a long time. Makoto could tell he wasn't avoiding the question, because he was scowling and working his mouth slightly, as if carefully forming and discarding words. Finally, he spoke. "He's boring."

That surprised a chuckle from Makoto. 'Boring' was one of the last adjectives he might use to describe Tatsuo. He thought he should probably be more ready to defend his boyfriend, but he felt mostly relief that Haru didn't find any worse fault than that. "You made him nervous," he chided.

"I thought someone you'd fall in love with would be extraordinary. I'm disappointed."

"I'm not in love with him," Makoto corrected, startled.

"You're not?" Haru seemed genuinely bewildered. "I thought that's what a boyfriend was."

"Eventually, maybe. We've only been dating for a few weeks."

"Oh," Haru replied, obviously nonplussed.

***

Like Makoto, Tatsuo liked to people-watch. One of their favorite things to do was to sit at an outdoor café table and study the passersby on the street and make up stories about them. Tatsuo called it their 'detective dates', as an inside joke about how they'd met.

Makoto tended to create romantic yet prosaic backgrounds for the subjects of their 'detecting' -- lost loves, cute pets, aspirations being chased in the giant metropolis of endless wonders that was Tokyo. Tatsuo did that, too, but more often, he tried to shock Makoto with increasingly risqué or ridiculous suppositions.

"That guy's carrying on two affairs behind his wife's back," he'd say, pointing to a bookish looking fellow in a suit. "Number one is his male boss, where he works as an accountant. Number two is a prostitute who dresses up like cartoon characters for him. He likes getting pegged by his wife while wearing his glasses and a panda costume."

His eyes would dance at Makoto's scandalized, "Tatsuo!"

Occasionally, Tatsuo would wink at Makoto before committing some scheme or another.

"You see that grandmother over there with the sour look like she's smelled something bad?"

"Tatsuo! That's mean."

"Just watch, Makoto. I'll tell her I'm an art student and I want to sketch her portrait. By the time I'm done with her, she'll be smiling so big her false teeth will fall out."

Inevitably, he would succeed, leaving an elated grandmother, or a pleased and blushing young woman, or a delightedly squealing child.

Tatsuo was extremely good at giving compliments and an expert at understanding what people most wanted to hear. Makoto regularly saw him charm people. He tried to copy Tatsuo's technique sometimes, but he achieved only varying success, because he could never duplicate Tatsuo's offhand-seeming charisma.

Makoto had never met someone with such complete fearlessness paired with an avid curiosity about the world. Being with Tatsuo was like standing up on a rollercoaster car. It was like living forever in that moment where you were straining every muscle to the maximum of your ability and it suddenly felt like you were no longer in control of your body, that it was rushing toward the finish line on its own and you were just along for the exhilarating ride.

***

Thursdays were Makoto's busiest night, as he had a once-a-week class the following day with homework due, and a weekly quiz for a different class as well.

Out of consideration for his schedule, Tatsuo didn't often come by on Thursdays, but as they began to see more of each other, inevitably Tatsuo would be in Makoto's apartment more nights than not, with perhaps predictable consequences.

"Hey, babe..."

"I need to study, Tatsuo!"

"You can take a break for half an hour. Your bed is right there. It's not like it'll take long."

"That's not--" Makoto's protest was cut off by an admittedly scorching kiss. "Tatsuo, honestly."

"I'm so hard for you, Makoto... Come on, you can't look as sexy as you do and not finish the job. Where's your sense of responsibility?"

"I-- St-Stop-- Oh!"

Tatsuo was extremely convincing when he wanted to be.

***

Tatsuo was the first person since Nobu that Makoto had sex with without a condom. It gave him an almost guilty thrill to think of it at first -- and a melting sensation later on. When they made love together, their bodies truly joined as one. It filled Makoto with wonder that this was the closest he could ever be with another person.

To be honest, Makoto had been hesitant to agree at first. Shuuji had taught him about more than just sex positions, and although he trusted Tatsuo, he knew there were sometimes mistakes or unexpected events.

"How about we get some tests done first?" he suggested.

"That seems like a lot of trouble, and money that I could be spending on buying you dinner instead." Tatsuo, laying on the couch, ran his fingers through Makoto's hair, where he sat on the floor in front of him.

"I think it's worth it."

"Oh, come on, what difference would it make? We're already exclusive, aren't we?"

"It would make me feel better, Tatsuo. I've been with a lot of people. You never know. It would make the sex better, if we're sure, don't you think?"

Tatsuo groaned and flung himself dramatically back with his arm over his eyes. "It'll be so embarrassing, though!"

Makoto smiled at his antics. "You can handle it."

"All right, all right, babe. For you."

He leaned down to kiss Makoto, upside down and sideways, making Makoto laugh.

***

Shuuji met Tatsuo on a Friday night. Makoto brought him along to meet the group at one of their regular places, a karaoke bar in Shibuya. With eight people, they rented a medium sized room with the premium menu of snacks. For most of them, it was that lull in classes just before they had to start buckling down for their first major exams or projects, and all of them were itching with energy to burn.

When Makoto chose a song for him and Tatsuo that happened to be from Shuuji's favorite band, Shuuji predictably snatched the microphone from Tatsuo's hand halfway through and took over, complete with choreography, despite the tiny room. With his friends encouraging him, Shuuji played it up, posing exaggeratedly on his knees or against the wall, making kissy faces at them all as if they were his devoted fans, and even climbing into Ichirou's lap at one point. Makoto's backup vocals devolved into a mess of garbled notes and gasps for breath. By the end, all of them were laughing so hard they could barely stand.

All of them except Tatsuo.

When Makoto pretended to interview Shuuji on his latest 'hit performance', Tatsuo grabbed his microphone back in the middle of Shuuji's reply. Ignoring the other boy, he addressed Makoto. "Want to pick a new song?"

Makoto blushed as he became the focus of this increasingly uncomfortable scene. He'd carelessly let himself get caught up in the moment instead of paying better attention to his boyfriend, especially when Tatsuo was the only new person here. If Tatsuo had been any other of Makoto's friends, Makoto would have been looking out for him better.

"Whew. Makoto likes 'em shit-hot and aggressive, huh?" Shuuji said in a complimentary tone of voice, perhaps in an ill-conceived attempt to rescue Makoto and lighten the mood.

"Get out of my face," Tatsuo ordered, and Shuuji put up his hands in surrender.

"Going, going."

Shuuji went to the side table for a drink while Makoto quickly picked a new song, a love duet, and things settled down after that.

At the end of the evening, when Shuuji leaned in automatically to kiss him goodbye, Makoto, conscious of Tatsuo's disapproving glare, pulled back enough to make the other man check himself and give him a quizzical look. Awkwardly, Makoto patted his shoulder instead. "Good night."

"Good night, Makoto." He didn't ask Makoto to text him. After all, Tatsuo would be accompanying him, so they both knew he would get home safe.

Later at Tatsuo's apartment, Tatsuo held him close and apologized. "I'm so sorry. Fuck, I should have told you, but there wasn't a good time. Shuuji reminds me of one of my exes. He was a real bad piece of work, and I let it get to my head. I'll try to be better, Makoto. Please don't be mad."

Makoto soothed him and assured him he would apologize to Shuuji on his behalf. Just to be safe, though, Makoto didn't try to bring the two of them together again.

***

Tatsuo liked to buy Makoto jewelry -- bracelets and necklaces, a beaded anklet, and even a ring that Makoto had felt too shy to wear but kept on his desk. He didn't buy anything overly expensive, just sweet little mementos to remind Makoto he was thinking of him. Makoto learned not to pause in front of jewelry displays while with his boyfriend, or else the next moment, Tatsuo would be taking out his wallet and spending his hard-earned money from his part-time jobs on another silly trinket.

Tatsuo had five piercings in one ear and three in the other, and he urged Makoto to get one as well.

"Trust me, you would look _so hot_ with piercings, Makoto."

"Thanks, but, I'm not sure I want to."

"Are you worried your parents will see? If you take the earring out, most people won't even notice."

"Even if my parents don't notice, I'm sure my siblings would."

"You should be free to be yourself, anywhere, anytime. If somebody has a problem with you, fuck 'em."

"It's not quite that simple."

"You have to get your head out of your little backwards village, Makoto. The world is a wide place. You don't have to follow their antiquated norms."

Makoto got angry then, and they had their first fight.

Tatsuo bought Makoto a necklace as an apology, a black cord with a silver-plated pendant in the shape of a stylized 'T'. "T for the Tachibanas," he explained, "who have lived in the lovely, lovely town of Iwatobi for generations." He whispered in Makoto's ear, making Makoto's gut shiver with anticipation, "And T for Tatsuo, too."

That was the first bad disagreement they ever had. Makoto was glad that they were able to resolve it quickly. His mother had always told him that seeing how someone argued told you what kind of person they were. 

***

Saturdays after lunch were reserved for each other. Despite the occasional differences that any two people from different backgrounds were wont to have, Makoto and Tatsuo were agreed that spending alone time with each other was essential to their relationship. Classes and work and other obligations kept them both busy, but this time was sacred.

They whiled away many hours in bed, pleasuring each other to their limits, then napping and starting all over again. They made love on every conceivable surface and shared their lewdest fantasies with each other. They showered together and then got dirty again. They gave each other massages that led inevitably to oil and other fluids staining the sheets.

It wasn't always just romantic, however.

Tatsuo liked to help Makoto plan out his projects and brainstorm ideas for Makoto's future, often sharing articles and other reading material that he thought Makoto would find helpful, and berating him into reading them when he got too lazy. This was what Makoto wanted, he realized, not just a bed partner, but someone who could support him in life.

This was what Rin did for Haru, he thought. Tatsuo pushed him to be better.

He reminded himself that he should remember to do the same for Ran and Ren once they got older, instead of giving in to his instinct to lavish love on them and protect them at all costs. Love and affection were wonderful things to have as a kid, but you had to grow up sometime, and to achieve success, you needed tough advice and management.

***

To be honest, Makoto sometimes felt embarrassed to be with Tatsuo. Tatsuo had Haru's self-confidence, Nagisa's energy, Rei's attention to detail, and Rin's insatiable drive to succeed. He had talent and pizazz and a creative career waiting for him. When he walked into a room, everyone paid attention to him and followed his lead. Makoto, meanwhile, was boring and shy, had to work extra hard for his mediocre grades, and wasn't even particularly good-looking.

Whenever Makoto accidentally gave a hint to his insecurities, Tatsuo would scold him good-naturedly.

"Don't be an idiot," he'd say. "Stop thinking those crazy thoughts. Why wouldn't I want to be with you?"

***

On a cloudy Sunday, with no prior warning while Makoto was telling Tatsuo some news about the current Iwatobi Swim Club that Gou had related to him, Tatsuo told Makoto he had fallen in love with him.

It wasn't the usual 'I like you' or 'I care about you' or even the more obvious 'I'm attracted to you'. Tatsuo actually said the word that people used in comic books and TV dramas, the one you'd say to someone you'd loved for a long time and wanted beside you in your future.

Makoto hugged the feeling to himself for a whole day before he told Haru about it. Haru gave him that special smile, which made everything feel ten times better.

That is, until Haru said, "If you love each other, then everything will work out."

"What do you mean?"

Haru gave him an uncertain look, then averted his gaze. "Never mind."

***

In late fall, Haru's team had a more relaxed training camp that non-team members could attend. While Haru hadn't yet explicitly invited Makoto, it had been understood since they'd known about it earlier in the year that Makoto would go. He hadn't, however, counted on having a boyfriend when time for the trip came.

"I'm sure you could go, too. I don't see why they should limit the number of attendees, since the larger the group, the better discounts we should get."

Tatsuo was unconvinced. "Why would I want to waste my long weekend and my money on going to some sports club?"

"Come on, Tatsuo, it'll be fun. We can go swimming together! I can show you my backstroke." He tried to make it sound suggestive, but Tatsuo was unmoved.

"You're the swimmer, not me. What would I be doing while you're playing in the water and ogling all the guys in speedos?"

Although Makoto wasn't certain it was a joke, he decided to take it as one. "Don't worry. You're the only one I'll be ogling. Wouldn't you like to show me how you look in a swimsuit?"

"In front of a bunch of pros? Are you insane? I'm surprised you're willing to show them _your_ body."

Stung at the inadvertent jab, Makoto sighed, giving up. "We don't have to swim if you don't want to. We can go shopping or go to an amusement park. Though we should probably spend at least one meal with Haru and the team. It'd be rude otherwise."

"I don't need to spend any more time with Nanase," Tatsuo groused. Unfortunately, Haru had never warmed to Tatsuo, and Tatsuo had decidedly returned the favor. Makoto kept trying to have them get along, but by this point, he was a bit at a loss.

"I'm sorry he's so intense. I've told him to tone it down."

"Well, it hasn't done any good, has it? I know he's your best friend, but he gives me the creeps sometimes."

That made Makoto frown. "It'd help if you'd stop provoking him, too. You're always so aggressive around him. It makes him think the worst."

Tatsuo's face went blank and cold the way it did when he was angry. "What are you saying, Makoto? That I'm _mean_ to you, and your best friend doesn't like it?"

"Of course not!"

"Have you ever thought, if you'd stop encouraging that behavior from him, maybe he'd stop."

Makoto bit his lip. Tatsuo had struck a nerve. Haru had been looking after Makoto since they were little. Makoto understood that it was difficult for him to get out of the habit. He didn't blame his friend. If anything, he blamed himself for being such a crybaby that Haru had felt the need to behave that way in the first place. "I don't, that much," he denied weakly.

"Admit it. You rely on him. You _like_ that he's an overprotective freak."

"It's not like that. We've known each other since we were practically babies, so we're close. That's all."

"'Close'? You'd fuck him in a heartbeat if he ever let you."

He imagined the horror Haru would feel at being talked about this way. "Why the hell would you say that?"

"You smile at him like a puppy dog waiting for his master. Not to mention, you shake your ass at _everyone_ on the dance floor. Don't think I haven't noticed."

Blushing in humiliation, Makoto clenched his fists. "You never said any of this before. If how I dance bothered you, why didn't you say so?"

Tatsuo must have realized how severe his own accusations had been, because he immediately backtracked. "Shit, I'm sorry, Makoto." He put his arms around Makoto and kissed his cheek. "I love you, baby. I'm so sorry. You know I like how sexy you are. I got jealous for no reason and lost my temper. I've just been under so much stress lately. Please forgive me?"

Makoto sighed. He leaned into his boyfriend and breathed deeply into Tatsuo's hair until he felt he could say the words without it being a lie. "I forgive you." They kissed, briefly. "I love you, too."

"About the camp thing, I'm busy with my project, but you can go without me, okay?"

It was a hard choice, but Tatsuo was right. There was little point in splurging on a weekend trip where most of the time, Makoto would be left alone. "That's all right. I'll tell Haru I'm not going." He took Tatsuo's hand and tried a smile. "How about we do something fun together instead? Here in Tokyo?"

"I don't know, Makoto. Like I said, I've got a lot of work to do. Maybe a day trip somewhere the weekend after?"

Makoto was disappointed, but he admired and supported Tatsuo's dedication to his work. "Okay. Sounds good."

***

Tatsuo broke up with Makoto on the Monday after his birthday. He told Makoto he thought their 'spark' was gone. He thought their relationship had 'run its course'. He said he'd 'had fun' and it was time to 'move on'. He apologized and in the same breath declared that this was better for the both of them.

Makoto just felt numb.


	5. Part III: Tatsuo, Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Makoto felt renewed and ready to take on life. And that was when his best friend went insane._
> 
> Alternative Summary: _"Makoto isn't a bowl of beans."_

Haru was _enraged_ at what he deemed Tatsuo's 'betrayal'. Makoto had always known Haru was protective of him, but he hadn't expected this.

"People break up, Haru," he told him, not ungrateful but rather bewildered by his best friend's reaction.

"If he tells you he's in love with you, he should have meant it."

"He did mean it. At the time. People fall out of love, too. My parents both dated other people before they met each other."

"They probably didn't love those other people then."

"Well..." In fact, Makoto didn't know. He'd always assumed that his parents must have loved other people before meeting each other, yet he had been the one to explain to Haru that you could date someone without loving them.

Haru's own parents had met in junior high and stayed together, getting married as soon as they'd graduated high school. It wasn't that Haru ever outright disbelieved anything that Makoto told him, but Makoto had been exasperated many times before by Haru's dogged unwillingness to understand some things outside of his own experiences. Usually, they had back-and-forths over inconsequential things that Makoto eventually found amusing. This time was different.

This time, he _needed_ Haru to understand. He needed to understand, himself. "People change. It's not their fault. I used to like sugar on my edamame when I was little, and I don't anymore."

"Makoto isn't a bowl of beans."

"No, I just meant..." He sighed. "Dolphins used to be my favorite when I was little, and now I like orcas more. Maybe it's more like that."

Haru huffed disdainfully. "Dolphins don't lie to you and tell you they love you back."

"I know that," Makoto replied, more sharply than he'd intended. He was starting to feel a little resentful of Haru's emotions, which didn't make sense at all. Haru was just showing how much he cared. "There are plenty of people we knew in the past that we don't talk to anymore, right? No relationship is forever."

Haru seemed to take exception to this, his normally passive face forming a snarl as he jerked his head side to side in a sharp negative. "Stop making excuses for that bastard. You're my best friend in the world, and I'd never leave you. Rin said he'd love you after you're both _dead_. Are you saying a boyfriend is supposed to care about you less than we do?"

"No, of course not." Though Haru's frame of reference was perhaps unrealistic... "I just had some bad luck this time." That was what he'd been telling himself, and logically, he thought it had to be true. People got together and broke up all the time. He was nothing special.

He'd never been anything special, and maybe that was why--

"Why even bother to date, if people act like this? Is it just for the _sex_? Is fucking really that important?"

Makoto snapped then. How could Haru possibly understand, with his indifferent, self-satisfied view of the world? "Just because you don't understand it doesn't mean that relationships aren't important. Yes, we broke up, and it hurt _me_ , not you. It was probably both our faults, so blaming Tatsuo isn't going to fix things, and anyway, the person making me feel bad right now isn't him!"

He knew his best friend inside and out. He saw the instant shame and contrition on Haru's face. He even saw the apology that was so obviously at Haru's lips -- but he stormed off before Haru could voice it.

So, he and Haru had their second fight, and it was all Makoto's fault.

***

The Christmas season was unbearable with couples thronging the streets, arm in arm. Except for class-related activities and food runs, Makoto stayed indoors, avoiding the decorations, songs, and sales banners proclaiming 'special gifts for your special someone'. Avoiding Haru.

He was entering the last quarter of his first year, and he wanted to end it well. His grades had slipped over the last six months, anyway, so this was a good time to catch back up.

Makoto begged off going home for New Year's, citing schoolwork and a part-time job at a fast food place that would pay extra rates for working over the vacation. He would be home soon for spring break anyway, he justified. He cringed at the wails of disappointment from his siblings and at the subtler hurt in his mother's voice. He hadn't seen his family in eight months. His father stiltedly commended him for being so hardworking and responsible, but even he eventually broke down and told him it was a shame they wouldn't see him for the holiday.

He hated causing so much pain, but in his current state, he'd never be able to keep up the act of the Good Son for days in a row, especially since Nagisa and Rei would surely want to meet up as well, and it would be the first time they'd seen each other since...

Rin texted him, { _I heard you and Haru aren't coming home? All the brats are really sad._ } He didn't know how to answer until Rin sent a following text hours later, asking, { _It's not because of me, is it?_ } Makoto assured him otherwise. Rin likely wouldn't be coming back from Australia again until next year. Makoto really would be sad to miss him. He wondered how Haru felt about it, but they hadn't spoken for two weeks by then.

Haru stayed in town with his parents. They were kind enough to invite Makoto for New Year's Eve, but Makoto refused, and Haru made excuses for him. The day after New Year's, Haru arrived at his door, uninvited, bearing boxes of homemade holiday dishes. They both apologized, and their second fight ended over mochi and dried dates.

With Haru restored to him, and his skin permanently smelling of fried chicken and French fries, and classmates back from ski trips and family dinners, Makoto told himself he'd made quite enough of a fool of himself and it was time to move on with his life.

He reached out to Shuuji, with many apologies for freezing him out for so long, and thank goodness the young man's somewhat slipshod nature was also incapable of holding a serious grudge. Without much fanfare, Makoto merged back into the group on their party outings. He couldn't quite seem to get into it the same way, however. The lights felt too bright, the music too loud. The men who tried to pick Makoto up didn't seem so attractive anymore.

It all felt... dissatisfying.

***

After Hasakawa-san helped Makoto into the elevator, Makoto stumbled down the hallway on his own and managed to let himself into his apartment. Toeing his shoes off, he collapsed on the floor and called Haru.

"Makoto." The sound of Haru's terse greeting made him tear up.

"Haru." He sniffed. "I'm drunk," he informed his friend.

"You were drinking while out?" Haru sounded concerned and a little angry. Right. Because they had an agreement. Because Haru was the best-est friend in the whole wide world and wanted him to be safe.

"No, no, no," he assured Haru. "I just went to the little traditional bar next door. You remember? With the good nonkatsu."

"Oh. Where are you now?"

"I'm home. I'm fine, Haru."

"If you're fine then why are you calling me?" Makoto didn't take offense. Haru knew that if Makoto just wanted to chat, he would have called Kisumi or Nagisa instead. Thinking about why he'd called Haru caused his chest to feel heavy. "Makoto?" 

He took a breath and was alarmed when it turned into a sob.

"Makoto!"

"I realized something..." While downing tiny cups of saké, Makoto had abruptly realized something about his life. About his future. "I used to think I'd grow up and have a family just like mine. I'd be a dad with happy, noisy children, and a kind, smiling wife. We'd have cats, maybe, and a little house and a yard, and we'd all love each other so much."

"That sounds nice," Haru offered, when Makoto didn't speak for a while. His eyes stung and his throat felt tight. He stared up at the dark ceiling and felt tears spilling out and running into his hair. Haru was trying so hard. He was such a good friend. Makoto gathered his energy to continue.

"I thought I could still have that, just with a man instead of a woman. But I can't. It's different with men. It's just sex and using each other. It all feels so dirty and pointless."

"I'm coming over there."

Makoto wanted Haru to be here with him, but he shouldn't inconvenience Haru. He had to be considerate and tell Haru not to come. But Haru knew what he wanted and would come anyway. Was this why Makoto had called him? Sneaky Makoto. He was such a bad person. "You don't have to do that..."

"We'll talk more when I get there. Later." The call cut off.

Makoto felt relief and simple happiness. Haru was coming.

Oh.

He couldn't be lying on the floor like this when Haru got here. That would be rude. And Haru would worry.

Struggling to his feet, he turned on the lights and then went to the kitchen for tea. He brought back two clean cups and put them on the coffee table. Then he was dizzy, so he sat down on the edge of his bed for a bit.

As long as he was on his bed, he thought he should undress. It would save him trouble later. His sleep clothes were too far away, though, so he got in bed in his boxer shorts and T-shirt. That was pretty much the same thing, anyway.

He heard a key scraping in the lock. He was glad Haru had insisted that he get a spare key made, against apartment policy. He didn't have the energy to get up and open the door.

Haru. Haru was a good friend. He said he would never leave him. And Rin, too. And Nagisa, and Rei. Why did he have such good friends when he was such a horrible person?

"Makoto." He started crying again at the sound of Haru's deep, calm voice, so filled with concern for him. Haru padded closer and sat on the bed next to his shoulder.

"You came," Makoto said, unnecessarily. He smiled, hopefully at Haru, because his eyes weren't quite focusing. It looked like he had two overhead lights rather than one. He didn't want two lights. He was selfishly wasting electricity that could be used by hospitals or schools.

"Are you okay?"

Makoto wiped his face. He was such a crybaby, he always made Haru worry.

"I'd never been drunk before. I just wanted to try it," he assured his friend. Even inebriated, he could predict what Haru was thinking. "The other times were different. I only got buzzed before," he explained. Haru seemed to consider this.

"How is it?"

"It's awful," he whimpered. "I'm all sad and confused. I hate it. Haru, I hate myself. I hate being this way."

"Being drunk?" Haru asked, sounding uncertain. Haru was never uncertain. Makoto had done that to him.

Overwhelmed by his own inferiority, Makoto curled up in his blankets, hiding his face. "I wish I could be so confident like you, Haru. You're just happy being yourself. How do you do it?"

It'd been a rhetorical question, but Haru seemed to give it some serious thought. "It's different with me. I can be myself all on my own. You have to be yourself with other people. That's hard. Makoto is brave." He put a hand on Makoto's back, and Makoto curled tighter. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve anything. He was a filthy, disgusting, selfish pervert and a terrible son and a terrible brother and a terrible friend.

"I'm really not. Makoto is a coward."

Haru didn't contradict him, and he sobbed into his pillow, trying and failing not to make any noise. He gasped when the lights snapped off. Before he could plead with Haru not to leave, he heard some rustling, and then Haru was pulling the blanket away from him. A moment later, he'd clambered in, crowding Makoto against the wall. It was a tight fit, but it worked. "I'm here," he told Makoto, with his signature matter-of-factness.

"Haru?"

"You're not a coward, Makoto. But if you're scared, I'm here."

"We're not kids anymore." He shouldn't need Haru to take care of him like this. He shouldn't encourage it.

Haru turned his back and lay still. Minutes passed, and he didn't move. Makoto could feel the warmth of Haru's body heating the space between them. His friend's familiar, broad back formed a protective wall in front of his face. He could see Haru's shoulder rising slightly with every breath, and he could smell Haru's comforting scent. Gulping back his tears, Makoto reached out. Haru's shirt was rough cotton. He clenched his fingers around the cloth. He wondered if Haru was asleep yet.

He kept wondering until his own breaths evened out and his eyelids grew heavy. He didn't try to stay awake.

No monsters would get him while Haru was here.

***

Makoto the next morning was a sorry, regretful, sickened mess. "I'm not ever doing that again," he moaned, lying half in and half out of the bathroom. Tears filled his eyes. He wasn't even sad anymore. The tears just wouldn't stop. He wondered if alcohol had broken his eyes. He couldn't focus.

Oh. Ow. He hadn't taken out his contacts last night. Despite the tears, his contacts felt like they were glued to his eyeballs. "Haru!"

Haru leaned in through the doorway. "What?"

"My contact lens case. Could you...?"

A minute later, Haru brought him the plastic container, already filled with solution. "You're such a good friend, Haru. What would I do without you?"

"Die, probably," his heartless friend determined, completely dispassionately. But he picked his way between Makoto's limbs without stepping on anything and ran Makoto's washcloth under the faucet before bringing it to him. The cool cloth on his forehead felt heavenly. Makoto forgave him everything.

"I love you, Haru," he declared. Haru took his contacts case away and put something in his hand. A glass of water. With a bendy straw. "I _love_ you," he repeated, and gulped down the water without having to get up. "I'm so sorry, Haru. I didn't know that would happen. Everyone says getting drunk makes you happy."

"Or it makes you crash your car, or hit your wife, or die of blood poisoning."

Makoto whined.

"Makoto." Haru shook his shoulder. "Don't fall asleep here."

"Huh?" He realized he'd closed his eyes. "Oh. Right. I won't." Makoto levered himself up onto one elbow, swayed, then lay back down. He felt sick again. "But I think I'd better stay here for a bit longer."

"Makoto," Haru persisted.

"Mm?" He was drifting off again... but that didn't seem like such a bad idea, really.

"Last night. You said you hate yourself. Did you mean that?"

"Hm...? Oh!" Makoto put his hands over his face and groaned. All those stupid thoughts. How much of them had he said out loud? "No. No, Haru, of course not. I don't know why I said those things." He could _feel_ Haru watching him. He sighed. "I do wish I could be more comfortable in myself. But... I don't hate myself, Haru. Really, I don't." Peeking between his fingers, he saw his friend still frowning suspiciously.

He rolled his head to the side and plucked at the hem of Haru's pants, choosing to focus there instead of at Haru's deeply perceptive eyes. "I was feeling sorry for myself, wishing things were different. I thought the saké made things clearer. Simpler. But I think it just made things... _bigger_ , somehow. All the little things that bothered me felt like disasters."

Haru took a breath, frowned, opened his mouth, glared at the ground. He'd gotten much better at expressing himself in the past few years, but Makoto knew it was still difficult for his quiet friend to articulate drastically new or strongly felt ideas. He waited patiently. Haru was always worth waiting for.

"Don't hate yourself, Makoto. Even when your heart hurts inside. I... So _many_ people care about you. So... don't hate yourself."

Tears threatened again, and this time Makoto was pretty sure it wasn't the alcohol at fault. "Okay, Haru-chan."

Haru scowled at him but didn't say anything to protest the -chan.

"I'll be okay, Haru. Thank you."

***

When finals ended at long last, and their schools closed down for spring break, Makoto went home. Haru went for part of the break as well, and they all had a reunion at the ITSCR. Things were easier by then, less raw. Their friends were excited to see them and also distracted by the prospect of starting college in the spring. It made Makoto feel proud, though a little sad, at how everyone was growing up so fast.

Ran and Ren were expectedly ecstatic at the return of their big brother. Makoto couldn't believe how much taller and bigger they looked since he'd last seen them. He asked them about their year, and they sounded so intelligent and full of energy, it made Makoto want to run outside with them and look at the world through their eyes for a while.

His parents were, if more subdued, compared to the twins, equally happy to see him. A few tears were shed on both sides. Makoto apologized for staying away over the holiday and was both disappointed and relieved when they didn't press for a better reason as to why he'd done it. His mother fed him constantly, until he'd quite literally forgotten what it felt like to be hungry. His father commented often on how mature and grown up he'd gotten. It made Makoto feel ashamed for how he'd been behaving this past year. He was determined to live up to his father's expectations next year.

A week after returning to Iwatobi, he took the opportunity to treat Gou to lunch and come out to her face to face. She was very stridently surprised, making Makoto glad he'd taken her to a chain restaurant at the mall and not a more local place where the owners might possibly telephone his mother. Thankfully, however, Gou's reaction was less violent than her brother's had been.

Recovering quickly, Gou asked him a flurry of questions, peppered with blushing injunctions not to answer if he didn't want to, and then -- ominously -- demands to know why she was the last of the Iwatobi Swim Club to hear the news. At the end of their extended lunch, Makoto swept the slighter girl into his arms for a big hug, and she laughed and kissed him on the cheek. This, unfortunately, did prompt some rumors and several angry texts from Rin, which provided drama for the rest of spring break.

For Makoto, his vacation was as pleasingly long and lazy as this past year had been difficult and stressful. Surrounded by his friends and family and the brisk briny air, Makoto felt like he could breathe again.

When he stepped back onto his campus, with the cherry trees lining the entrance plaza in bloom, Makoto felt renewed and ready to take on life.

And that was when his best friend went _insane_.

***

"Haru, why are you looking at a website from my school?" Makoto asked his friend. He hadn't meant to spy, but the glimpse he'd caught of Haru's laptop over his shoulder had looked familiar, so he'd stopped for a second look. Indeed, it was the events calendar for his university, filtered by club activities and interest.

"The Rainbow Club has a barbeque this Saturday. You should go. You might meet someone there."

"Someone...? You mean a-- someone to date?"

Haru gave him a look that said, _Obviously_. "I'll go with you," he said, sounding disturbingly predatory.

Makoto had a flashback to Haru's stunted, painfully aggressive attempts to recruit members for their Swim Club. "No!" he said, perhaps a little too hastily. Haru, unoffended, took it in stride.

"Take Shuuji, then."

Haru seemed so earnest about it that Makoto didn't have the heart to turn him down. Besides, it did sound interesting. "I'll think about it, okay?"

As it turned out, Makoto did go, and he did invite Shuuji. Shuuji had planned to go home to his father's in Yokohama over the weekend, but their relationship was a bit strained, as Makoto understood it, and he jumped on the chance to stay in town instead.

The other attendees were mostly like Makoto -- single men, young university students who were a little unsure of themselves but optimistic. They made stilted first-meeting conversation while the few women there clustered together in a similarly shy group some space apart. After the bars and clubs that Makoto had frequented last year, this atmosphere felt jarringly normal.

"Well, this is awkward," Shuuji commented, probably on a similarly unsure footing. His eyes darted around the rooftop where the party was being held, taking in the small groups and couples ranged about. He held a chicken skewer in one hand, nibbling delicately, no doubt to keep himself occupied. "Gah, it's like freshman year again. Everyone's looking to hook up but too scared to ask."

It was strange to spend deliberate time with Shuuji during daylight hours. Makoto had only had the odd breakfast with him before, usually after a long night out followed by a few hours crashing in somebody's apartment. He took a careful bite of his own skewer, teriyaki flavored. "Are you seeing anyone now?"

Shuuji cut him a mischievous smirk, looking more like his usual self -- or at least, the side of him that Makoto usually met. "Was that a proposition?"

Makoto shoved the shorter boy with his forearm. "Be serious."

"I am!" Shuuji insisted. "I wouldn't mind another round with big, tall, and blushing. Mm, those muscles..."

"I haven't worked out much the whole last year," Makoto admitted, his humor abandoning him. "You'd probably be disappointed."

"Hm." Shuuji narrowed his eyes, reminding Makoto disturbingly of Haru. "Watanabe's a bastard who farts out of his dirty mouth. Don't pay attention to what he said."

"I never mentioned Ta-- him!" Makoto protested. "Don't change the subject."

Shuuji rolled his eyes. "If you're so curious, no, I'm not seeing anyone right now."

"What about Ichirou?" Shuuji's relationship with Ichirou was confoundingly fluid. Makoto had never had the nerve to ask for details.

"I'm me, and Wada's himself," Shuuji said, in a dismissive and completely uninformative manner.

"Did you and he ever date? I never really asked."

"He's still not out, and there's the whole thing with his family and the company, you know. I'll be going back to Nara after I graduate, anyway. It's just better to keep it casual. Easy."

It sounded anything but. "I'm sorry."

Shuuji shrugged. "You?"

"Haru wants me to date. I'm not so sure yet."

"Haru, huh?"

Makoto grimaced at his tone. "How many times do I have to tell you, we're not--"

"I know, I know! It's just funny. I can't figure him out. Sometimes you talk about him like he's your kid brother, and then sometimes he's like a jealous lover. And then sometimes he's like a nosy mother."

"Haru's like that. He doesn't care about most conventions. He sort of lives in his own world a lot of the time, so when he pays attention to you, it's like a star fell out of the sky. Somehow, he's always pulling people to him rather than the other way around."

"Sounds like it must be hard, being his friend."

"No, not at all." It had never occurred to Makoto to think that. "We're used to each other. I feel safe with him."

"That's nice. To have someone like that."

"Yeah, it really is." Makoto ducked his head at Shuuji's unusually open, unironic admiration. "Shuuji, do you see yourself ever settling down with one person for the rest of your life?"

The other boy blew out an exaggerated sigh. "One thing at a time, Makoto."

Their attention was called then by the organizers, proposing a few ice-breaking activities, which helped lift everyone's moods.

In the end, he and Shuuji wound up in the company of a female couple who had met in high school and had chosen to attend the same university together. Makoto told stories about growing up with Haru, while Shuuji shared anecdotes about his high school days with Kazu. Childhood friends turned out to be a good topic, falling comfortably enough between personal and impersonal to be both safe and interesting.

He also spoke with a male couple who had met at last year's event, which prompted speculations about pair-ups this year.

It was fun. 

***

The next time, Haru informed him of a university-wide karaoke competition. "You're a good singer. Someone will notice you for sure."

"I don't think... It's wonderful that there's an event like that, but I don't think I could go."

"Shuuji--"

"No, I couldn't ask him to come all the way here for that. There's not even free food. Haru, don't you have that paper due on Monday? You should be working on that."

"I'll finish it over the weekend. If you don't want to sing, there's a basketball tournament."

"Haru..."

***

"Makoto, there's a singles night at this bar."

***

"Makoto, you could..."

***

"Makoto, look..."

***

Finally, Makoto felt he had to put a stop to this madness.

"Haru, I appreciate what you're trying to do for me, but I think I'd like to take a break from dating for now. I want to focus on my studies, get my degree. Maybe I can get an assistant coaching job or an internship this year instead of working at fast food restaurants or convenience stores again. You should focus on your swimming, too, not playing matchmaker. We're still young. I'm only nineteen, for goodness sake. There's plenty of time."

Haru's mouth firmed. "Meeting people at school is easier than after you start working. Besides, you take time to fall in love. You might have to date a few men before you find one you really like. And then if you want children, it could take ten more years of paperwork and waiting."

Makoto had to pause to make sure he'd heard that last part correctly. "How do you know that?"

"I just read some things online. It wasn't difficult."

Haru didn't seem to see it as especially important, but Makoto knew his friend. Haru attempted to live as he swam -- with as little friction as possible. Him going to all this trouble for Makoto, while unnecessary and a little bothersome, was deeply heartwarming. "Haru. I'm so glad I have a friend like you."

Displays of affection from his friends was one of the few things that could make Haru blush from embarrassment. "I just want you to be happy," he said rather petulantly to the floor.

"I'm happy now, Haru. Love can wait a bit. Until I'm ready."

Haru's eyes held all the most beautiful shades of water in the world. Whatever he saw in Makoto's face seemed to convince him. He nodded.

  
END Part III.


	6. Interlude - Haru

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It should have been just one of a million meaningless little conversations between them, but Makoto's brain latched onto it like a starfish, and suddenly he couldn't stop thinking about it._

* * *

**Interlude - Haru**

* * *

  


"You don't go out as much as you used to, do you?"

"Hm?" Makoto, highlighting an unfamiliar term in his textbook, answered Haru distractedly, "No, I guess not."

"Do you get frustrated? Sexually?"

"Haru!" A year ago, this question would have been unthinkably bizarre. Now, it was embarrassing but not, admittedly, completely outside the realm of possible conversation topics between them. Makoto sighed, putting his forehead down on the table between them. He didn't seem able to get rid of his blush reflex, no matter how many times Haru tested it. "I take care of it on my own. Don't worry about that."

Haru was silent for a long while, until eventually he said, in a tone of discovery, "You masturbate."

"Well, yes," Makoto replied, taken aback by Haru's apparent shock. "Did you think I didn't do that?"

"I assumed that people who liked sex didn't masturbate because they just had sex with each other. But I guess that doesn't make sense."

"You don't watch enough television," Makoto told him, smiling fondly at his eccentrically innocent friend. He had just completed a new flash card and was finding his place in reading, so it took a moment for the more important idea to register. _...people who liked sex..._ Textbook forgotten, he gaped at Haru. "Do you masturbate, too?"

It was Haru's turn to look surprised at Makoto's reaction. "Yes."

"But-- I thought you didn't-- Do you do it often?"

Haru's expression turned irritated, whether at the topic itself or at Makoto's questioning. "Not really. It was worse during puberty. When I couldn't plan it."

"You _plan_ it?"

"I like to get someplace comfortable first, at least." When he put it like that, it sounded both obvious and sensible. Haru tilted his head in inquiry. "Don't you do that?"

"Well, yes. I just never thought about... Oh, I'm being ridiculous." Makoto had been incredibly self-centered for far too long. "I'm sorry, Haru. All the time I was blathering on about myself, I never even stopped to ask about you. Do you want to talk about it?"

"There's not much to say." Makoto was treated to the rare sight of Haru being flustered. It was probably more from being put on the spot rather than being embarrassed at the subject matter, but Makoto would take his wins where he could get them. "Touching myself in certain ways feels good. Sometimes I want to feel that way, or something happens and I can't help it. So, I masturbate. It's not a big deal, Makoto."

Makoto nodded along, even as he felt himself blush at the thought of his childhood friend doing... those things. Haru was human, after all, with a young man's body. Makoto could understand having reactions even when he had no interest in sex at the time.

Another thought struck Makoto like a thunderbolt. "Wait. If you can feel good, touching yourself, then someone else could touch you, too, right? So, you could have sex?"

Haru didn't say anything, but the combination of distaste and confusion on his face was answer enough.

Makoto waved his hands, backtracking quickly. "Ah. No. That must have sounded weird. Let's forget I said that. Please."

Haru blinked once, slowly, still not speaking. Makoto gratefully took that as agreement to forget about the matter.

Makoto had had the thought before that it was sad that Haru was missing out on so much, even though, as he always immediately reminded himself, Haru didn't feel that way. Maybe Haru's theory regarding Makoto and sex was more correct than Makoto had admitted to. Maybe he was a little obsessed, and that perplexed sympathy he felt about Haru was what Haru felt when he encountered someone who didn't like swimming.

Utter silence reigned for several minutes. Makoto tried his best to concentrate on his textbook, but the words swam around the page in a flutter of questions that he promised himself he wouldn't ask. When Haru spoke, he jumped and looked up.

"I've never thought about it before."

"Of course not," Makoto was quick to agree. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

But Haru didn't look insulted. In fact, he continued, thoughtfully, "I guess I could let someone else touch me."

"O-Oh?" Despite Makoto's disbelief at this conversation, curiosity prompted him to encourage Haru to elaborate. "Do you think so?"

"I'd have to trust him a lot, though."

"Him?"

Haru gave a careless half-shrug. "I don't know any girls that well."

"What about Hikaru-san? You're pretty close, aren't you? You see each other almost every day."

"Maybe. She's nice." Haru frowned. "But she likes to correct my form all the time."

Makoto chuckled, imagining her doing the same in a more intimate setting. "I can see how you wouldn't like that. What about Gou-chan?"

"She's younger than us. That'd be weird. Anyway, she might take it as a challenge. It'd be too much pressure."

"Plus, Rin would swim across the ocean just to murder you in your sleep."

"He wouldn't do that. He'd want me to be awake and see it coming." This was delivered in a perfect deadpan. Makoto laughed, and Haru quirked a slight smile.

"You're right. He would." That did raise another thought. "Would you let Rin?"

The response was immediate. "No. He'd be an asshole about it for sure."

"Nagisa? Oh, but he's younger, too."

Haru seemed not to discount their lowerclassman. "He might be okay. I do trust him. Though I think he'd come on too strong. He's very excitable."

"I guess you wouldn't like Jun either?" Indeed, Haru nodded. Like Nagisa, Haru's teammate was talkative and rather high-strung. "Rei?"

Haru started to shake his head, then paused. "Rei would be okay. He's patient, and he'd listen to me."

"We have a winner!" Making the accompanying sound effects, Makoto waved his pencil over his head like a lottery vendor with a bell. Haru, predictably, gave him a flat glare. It was such a _Haru_ expression that Makoto couldn't help but tease, "What about Sousuke?" Haru's glare turned downright murderous, and Makoto laughed.

Suddenly, he realized how carried away he'd gotten. He put his head down on his folded arms and groaned.

"What?"

"I feel like we're in junior high again. When all the boys were talking about sex and comparing the girls in school. We were so _awful_ back then. Sometimes I'd try to get them to stop, but then they'd laugh at me, so later I'd just get up and leave. But here I am doing it myself..."

"I don't think it's the same thing, exactly. We're not talking about their bodies, right?"

"I guess so. Still, it doesn't feel right." 

Haru made a face. "I don't know. They might enjoy it. Remember when we talked about who would be the best boyfriend?"

"That's right!" Makoto remembered, sitting up straight in momentary outrage. "You said you'd date Nagisa over me, just because he offered you mackerel."

"Mackerel is very tasty."

Nettled by Haru's nonchalant answer, he retorted, "Some people have said I'm pretty tasty, too."

He snickered when Haru made a disgusted face. It was Haru's own fault. He of all people should know that people who chose competitive sports as a hobby weren't going to lose at anything if they could help it.

"So, in the whole world, only Rei?" he mused out loud, going back to the topic at hand. "Should I tell him what an honor he has?" He imagined Rei's horrified expression. Their poor lowerclassman would probably sputter outrageously, trying to be polite and rational while also not too complimentary.

"You forgot yourself."

"Huh?"

"I'd let you touch me," Haru asserted, a bit impatient like he always was at having to repeat himself.

Makoto's mind abruptly filled with meaningless white noise. "Me," he said, faintly. "Really?" He shook his head. "You-- That's--" He couldn't seem to string a coherent thought together.

Haru looked honestly puzzled. "Why are you surprised?"

"You're right. I shouldn't be." They'd been talking about people Haru trusted. Naturally, Makoto would be on the list. It was a silly oversight. "So, just me and Rei, huh?"

"I think so." Haru tilted his head, seeming to give it some more thought. "Yes."

***

It should have been just one of a million meaningless little conversations between them, but Makoto's brain latched onto it like a starfish, and suddenly he couldn't stop thinking about it.

_It._

Having sex with Haru.

Would Haru make noises, he wondered? Or was he the silent type? Did he close his eyes while doing it? If he was used to 'taking care of business' himself, would he enjoy being watched? Would he want to watch someone else (Makoto)? How did Haru touch himself? What did he think about? Where exactly constituted 'someplace comfortable' for Haru?

In addition to these thoroughly intrusive thoughts, Makoto couldn't help noticing his friend's body. It was quite ridiculous. He'd known Haru since near-infancy. Haru's body should be utterly boring to him by now. Yet it seemed as if he were seeing Haru for the first time.

Haru, he discovered, had angular eyes with long, dark lashes. They were typically half-lidded, protecting Haru's thoughts or expressing his disdain for the mundane world. Bring up the topic of water, however, and they widened until his deep blue irises shone like sunlight off the ocean. Meanwhile, thinking about racing made Haru narrow his eyes in an expression that was nothing short of seductive. That not-so-subtle 'bring it' had drawn more than just Rin to challenge Nanase Haruka to a show-down. When Haru floated in a relaxed state, on the other hand, his eyes closed, all the muscles in his face softened, and his lashes painted slightly curved lines underneath his thin, dark eyebrows and the soft fall of his dark hair.

His hair. Makoto had seen his friend toss his wet bangs out of his eyes for over a decade. It'd used to be cute, then rather impressive. Makoto could never get his own hair to behave without his swim cap or brushing it out of the way with his hands. Haru's hair seemed to behave like a well-trained seal, parting expertly at his will. Since Haru's revelation, Makoto hadn't dared to visit Haru again after swim practice. He wouldn't be able to stand the sight of Haru's water-darkened locks, flecked with glittering droplets. Just imagining water dripping off of Haru's hair, sliding down his face, the back of his long neck, down the muscles of his shoulders and chest...

Muscles, yes, so many muscles. Haru was lean and hard with long limbs, an incredibly slim waist, and without an ounce of spare flesh on him. Like his fine-boned face, his body was efficient and built for both style and use. He sliced through the water like a dolphin, corded back and tensed abs pumping, glutes and calves working in perfect tandem. At each powerful stroke, his pectorals shifted and his traps flexed. His biceps heaved gracefully in rhythm as he stretched forward with his long fingers to carve his way through his element. Haru had artist's fingers, dancer's toes. Long and fine, they looked delicate until you saw them in action. Whether it was a flip turn or sketching a portrait, Haru moved with breathtaking precision and deadly deliberation.

Every moment of the last few years of their long history together was brought out and reviewed in this new light. Haru, stepping onto the starting block. Haru, gasping as he surfaced. Haru, grabbing his hand. Haru, challenging him to a game. Haru, wearing Makoto's shirt. Haru, asleep. Haru, stripping off his clothes. Haru, eating a popsicle. Haru, cooking in only his swimsuit and an apron. Haru, washing his hair and wearing nothing at all.

Thinking about Haru had become a never-ending loop in Makoto's head. He thought he was going to lose his mind. He went through a whole week of classes, hardly taking in a word. It wasn't because he hadn't slept with anyone since Tatsuo either, because he tried to look at other men. He even tried masturbating to other fantasies, and still his brain couldn't stop coming back to his raven-haired, sapphire-eyed friend, leaving him frustrated, terrified, and ashamed, curling around his hard-on with his boxers halfway down his thighs and his fists clenched in indecision.

This couldn't go on. He had to tell Haru. This time, he wasn't going to run away.

***

They were meeting for their regular dinner and study session. Makoto had requested they meet at his apartment instead of at a restaurant. Haru gave him a slightly puzzled look when he came in, but he handed over Makoto's share of the food without comment. They sat down at the coffee table. Makoto pushed his salmon lunchbox aside. He felt sick.

"Haru, I have to tell you something."

Makoto's father had a tone of voice for when he needed to announce serious topics, such as what was about to happen to the person who'd brought the feral cat into the house and let it spray all over the furniture. Makoto knew that he tended to channel that voice when he wanted to be taken seriously. Haru knew that tone, too. He sat up straight and awaited Makoto's pronouncement with wide, wary eyes.

"Remember what we talked about last time? Um, about how you can have sex with other people."

"Yes?"

"I--" He couldn't do it. Makoto put his face in his hands. He couldn't say the words.

"Did you accidentally set me up with someone?"

"No! Of course not!" Haru looked relieved. "It's-- me. I keep thinking about it. About..."

Haru's eyes widened in understanding. He looked down at his dinner. "I shouldn't have said it. I didn't think about how distracting it would be."

"It's not your fault, Haru. I always want you to be able to be completely honest with me. _I'm_ the problem here. I'm a horrible pervert."

"No. You're the normal one, remember?" Haru scowled, clearly frustrated with himself. "How can I fix it?"

"You don't have to fix anything. I just wanted you to know, so that when I act weird around you, you won't think it was something you did."

"But it _is_ something I did."

Makoto couldn't honestly deny that, though it felt wrong not to. "Maybe we could just... avoid each other for a while?"

"No." Haru's face had set in that implacable look he got when he was about to be stubborn about something. "If we do that, we might never see each other again. I'm not going to risk that."

Makoto could feel his face heating up. The strength and consistency of Haru's feelings for him had always been a constant in his life, but he almost never heard Haru acknowledge them aloud. It certainly wasn't helping their current predicament. Meanwhile, Haru, ignorant of Makoto's internal drama, was still mulling over the situation.

"Could we just ignore it for now and see what happens? It'll go away, eventually, right?" Haru asked, hopefully. "We spent almost our whole lives next to each other without you ever feeling this way."

Haru was right. It was probably a phase. Makoto had seen Haru naked dozens of times and mostly naked countless more. He'd slept next to him, helped him dress, hugged him fresh out of the pool. They'd been intimate in almost every other way. He didn't know why it was suddenly unbearable to be in the same room with his best friend while fully clothed, but it was most certainly temporary.

Wasn't it?

"Let's... Let's try that," he agreed. 

***

Haru honestly tried. Makoto could tell. He never went shirtless around Makoto anymore, and he never asked or talked about anything to do with sex. He stopped inviting Makoto to swim together. He even stopped taking baths on days when Makoto was supposed to pick him up from his apartment.

The trouble was, the more Makoto noticed the differences, the more he was forced to remember why they were there.

***

"Makoto. Would it help if we just had sex?"

It was a dream, of course. And since it wasn't real and would have no consequences, Makoto said whatever first came to mind. "That would be great, Haru. Could I top?"

Dream-Haru flinched. "I'm not interested in fucking. But it'd make sense if you took the lead, since you have the experience."

Characters in Makoto's sex dreams didn't say things like 'I'm not interested', and Haru in Makoto's dreams was usually uncharacteristically romantic and sweet. He wouldn't say 'fucking'. Makoto gasped. "Is this real?"

"What?"

"I thought I was dreaming. Or hallucinating." Haru gave him a completely justified incredulous stare. In Makoto's defense, he hadn't been getting enough sleep lately. Neither upcoming midterms nor his current 'problem' were conducive to restful slumber. "Did you really just ask me...?"

"You keep staring at me. Ignoring it isn't working."

"I'm sorry." He squirmed guiltily.

Haru, true to form, didn't answer but went back to his beef stew over rice. For once, they'd cooked at Makoto's apartment. He'd changed apartments at the start of this year and this one's kitchen had more counter space. The room was pleasantly warm and smelled of hearty spices and broth.

"Thank you for offering, but I couldn't do that to you. You should never have sex with someone you don't want, especially not just because they-- because _I'm_ putting pressure on you."

"I wouldn't have said it if I weren't willing. It wouldn't be a problem. Actually, I've been kind of curious."

Makoto sat up pin straight. What did 'curious' mean? Had Haru researched it? Daydreamed? Had he ever looked at Makoto and had indecent thoughts, the way Makoto did about him? "I don't know if I... if we..." he stammered.

"If you're uncomfortable with it, then don't say yes. I was just wondering."

"But you want to? It's something you want to try? Not just to-- Not just because of me?"

"Partly because of you," Haru allowed. "I want to fix this. And anyway, I wouldn't want it with some stranger."

"What I mean is, _you_ want to have sex. Not just to help me?"

This time, Haru looked away. For once, he was the one stammering slightly, as he answered, "Y-Yes. I've been thinking about it lately."

Makoto could feel his brain short-circuiting. Haru was _curious_. Haru was _wondering_. Haru was _thinking about it_. From there, it was only a short hop to the terribly self-justifying thought: Makoto had to do it now, for Haru, because this might be the only chance his friend ever got to have sex.

He couldn't imagine Haru making Rei an offer, after all, and even less so Rei taking it.

As if reading his mind, Haru reassured him, "But if you don't want to, that's okay. There are lots of things I'm curious about that I'll probably never do. It's really not a big deal."

"I'll do it."

"You're sure?" Haru narrowed his eyes at him. Instead of making Makoto feel embarrassed or vaguely nervous as he normally did when Haru scrutinized him like this, he felt a jolt of arousal so strong he could barely breathe.

"Yes," Makoto squeaked.

Haru studied him closely for a few more seconds, then went back to his meal. "All right."

Makoto felt light-headed. "Um. So. How...?" He cleared his throat and tried to be methodical. "You'd probably be more comfortable at your place, right?"

Haru swept his gaze over Makoto's apartment. "You have a bed. We can do it here."

It thrilled him that Haru felt comfortable in Makoto's space. "If that's what you want," he agreed, perhaps a touch too eagerly. He became aware that he had dropped his spoon and half gotten up.

"You want to do it tonight?" It sounded like an invitation, but Makoto couldn't miss how Haru's entire body tightened up, guarded, turning it into an exclamation, perhaps an accusation.

"No!" Makoto denied quickly. He forced himself to calm down and think a bit. "How about Saturday? You can come over in the morning, and afterward, we can eat, go someplace, like usual. If you don't like it after all, we can just skip to hanging out, so it won't be awkward or anything."

"Hanging out, but with sex. Like a date."

"Yeah. I guess," Makoto agreed, feeling suddenly bashful.

"A date with Makoto." Haru looked pleased and fond and indulgent in the way that always melted Makoto's insides. "That sounds nice."

  
END Interlude - Haru.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To any ace folks here who might be understandably leery about where this is going, please stick with me until at least the next chapter before deciding whether to abandon ship. I hope you won’t be disappointed. :) Thanks so much for reading!


	7. Interlude - Makoto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It wasn't as strange as Haru might have expected, having his friend hold him so intimately. Having Makoto's undivided attention was like being the center of the universe._

* * *

**Interlude - Makoto**

* * *

  


Haru arrived promptly at Makoto's at 10AM. He'd had his morning soak and a full breakfast, on the assumption that lunch might not be for a while. He'd then brushed his teeth again and looked through his closet for something suitable.

What did one wear to a sex date, anyway?

He'd finally decided on a comfortable old T-shirt under his newish university tracksuit. There was no way to know exactly what they would be doing until he got there and they could see how Haru felt about whatever Makoto had in mind. An outfit that Haru could remove quickly, sleep in, or walk around town in seemed the best compromise for the day. He hadn't seen any point in dressing up. It wasn't a real date, and Makoto knew what he looked like. When he'd confessed to Haru about being attracted to him, Haru had been wearing an ordinary long-sleeved T-shirt and slacks.

Satisfied with his choice, Haru had boarded the train on time and rung Makoto's doorbell at the appointed hour.

Makoto greeted him at the door with a flustered expression. Haru glanced around the room, wondering if something was wrong, but when Makoto averted his gaze, blushing, before he stepped back and ushered Haru in, Haru understood that he was the reason for Makoto's state.

"Now?" he asked. Often, the best way to calm Makoto down was to get him to start moving.

"S-Sure." While removing his shoes and socks under Makoto's gaze, he noted how Makoto was fitfully bunching the material of his slacks at his sides with his long fingers. "I washed the sheets and pillow cases and everything. And I showered. And I had myself tested after... I have condoms, anyway. We didn't talk about that, but you don't have to worry about anything."

"I don't mind anything you've done before. It's good experience." Haru hadn't forgotten Makoto's 'slut' remark. "I assumed you'd think of everything," he admitted. Maybe he had put too much pressure on his anxiety-prone friend. He took Makoto's hand to lead him to the bed. It'd been a long time since they'd held hands like this, but it seemed to Haru that Makoto needed it right now.

Like when Makoto pulled him out of the bath, Makoto's hand was large and warm. It wasn't chapped like it'd used to be, or like Haru's were, from swimming every day. Today, it was slightly sweaty, so Haru automatically squeezed a little tighter to maintain his grip.

Makoto had folded his blanket and hung it over the headboard, probably to make more room. It'd been a tight fit that time they'd slept in this bed together. He imagined, though, their bodies would be closer together for sex. It should be fine. He let go of his friend's hand and reached for the hem of his shirt and jacket, ready to strip them off.

He stopped at a sharp sound from Makoto and turned with a questioning look. Makoto was flushed. "Are you okay?" he asked, worried.

"It's just happening so fast." Makoto put his hands over his reddened cheeks.

Haru hesitated, redirecting his focus to think of alternatives. "We could... watch some TV or something first."

"No... That would just make me more nervous, I think. Haru, are you still sure you want to do this?"

"Yes, of course. I'm here, aren't I?" Haru asked, somewhat puzzled.

"Oh, Haru." Makoto caught Haru up in a loose hug. Haru stood still, not objecting. Makoto's hugs were rare and they didn't annoy him. Makoto breathed in deep, then let out a long sigh, his breath ruffling Haru's hair. "Okay. I'm ready."

"Should I take my clothes off now?"

"Let me?"

It'd been many years since anyone had undressed him. He nodded and stood back, lifting his arms slightly in preparation. Makoto's eyes were soft and gentle like they always were. For the first time, Haru started feeling nervous. Makoto must have picked up on that, because he didn't move in right away.

"Is it okay if I kiss you first?"

He'd thought about this on the train ride over. The concept of kissing didn't appeal to him, but he didn't feel anything against it, either. "We can try."

His skin felt heated and shockingly tender where Makoto's large hand cupped his cheek and jaw. Makoto's lips, like his hands, were warm and smooth, with a hint of moisture. He pressed against Haru's lips then retreated, first gently, then with more pressure, like an incoming tide. Haru tried his best to match the rhythm of the unfamiliar sensation and reciprocate in kind, but it felt mechanical and strange. The pressure left, then returned in light kisses along the top and bottom borders of Haru's mouth. He jumped at a wet touch between his lips, and he reflexively pushed Makoto back.

"I don't think I want to, after all."

"It's okay. Not everyone likes it." He could see the disappointment in Makoto's face, though.

He remembered the touch of Makoto's hand. "Maybe, not on the lips."

Makoto didn't move for a moment. Then he touched his lips lightly to Haru's temple. "Like this?"

It felt nice. "Yeah."

Makoto kissed his temple again, then trailed dry, firm kisses down the side of his face, down his jaw, up his cheekbone, and, to Haru's surprise, along the edge of his ear. Haru shivered once, all over, at the ticklish sensation. He clutched the front of Makoto's shirt. "It feels good," he murmured.

Makoto hummed in acknowledgement, or perhaps agreement. He often seemed to feel pleasure from pleasing others.

Continuing to explore Haru's face, he pushed Haru back until they were both sitting on the bed. Kisses peppered Haru's forehead and other cheek, his nose, and his neck. Makoto left one more kiss on Haru's collarbone before sliding to his knees. Though Haru could no longer feel it except as indirect pressure, Makoto laid more kisses down his chest and torso over his clothes. He stopped when he reached Haru's waist, his hands on the hem of Haru's track jacket. He looked up, and his eyes were the shining green of live forests in the morning sunlight.

Haru nodded at the wordless question.

Makoto slipped his hands underneath, half-lifting the jacket up, and ran his hands over Haru's T-shirt underneath. He rubbed Haru's chest and abdomen, then around to the back, up to the bottom edges of his shoulder blades. It was firm enough not to tickle, comfortable and rather soothing, almost like a gentle massage. He was sorry when Makoto took his hands back out.

Catching Haru's eye, Makoto took the zipper of Haru's jacket in his mouth and pulled it down slowly, a scant centimeter at a time. Dumbfounded, Haru watched for a few seconds before he voiced his confused impatience. "Why don't you use your hand? It'd be a lot faster."

Makoto froze, then spat the zipper out and burst out laughing. "Haru!"

Haru glared, not sure what was happening.

"It's supposed to be sexy."

Haru huffed. When other boys had been trading porn videos and dirty magazines, he'd ignored them in favor of more interesting things. He didn't have a good idea of what was 'supposed' to be sexy, but licking other people's germ-covered zippers didn't seem like it. He told Makoto so.

"Well, I guess it does seem a little silly now," Makoto agreed. His eyes were still dancing, though. He unzipped Haru the more usual way and pulled the jacket off. He dropped it on the ground next to him when normally he would have folded it neatly. When he went to pull off Haru's T-shirt, Haru lifted his arms, and Makoto's eyes squinted in an amused smile.

Maybe there was a 'sexier' way to take a T-shirt off that would have been equally as ridiculous.

The T-shirt was discarded just as carelessly as the jacket had been. Haru wondered how else Makoto would be different during sex.

"Haru," Makoto said, sobering as his hands rested on Haru's bare waist. "You have to tell me if you don't like something. Or if you want to stop. I know you sometimes don't pay attention to how you're feeling. Please don't do that, okay? I don't want to... to hurt you."

Haru squirmed uncomfortably. "I--" He stood and pushed down his pants and underwear himself while Makoto squawked in either protest or surprise. He kicked the material to the side and sat back down. "All right," he said, feeling irritable and a little embarrassed. "If I don't feel good, I'll let you know. You, too." 

Makoto had gone silent and blushing again.

"Makoto."

"I'm not the one--"

" _Makoto_."

"Yes, of course."

"Okay, then." Haru crossed his arms and looked stern. He had experience with being naked while facing down a fussing and fully clothed Makoto -- though Makoto's response was usually not as deferential as the five months' seniority in Haru's favor ought to accord him.

Unintimidated as usual, Makoto merely smiled, his eyes squinting up. "You always look out for me, don't you?" He rubbed his cheek on Haru's leg like the cats he was so fond of.

Haru sighed internally, and something about his expression or body language caused Makoto to smother a laugh into Haru's thigh.

Then Makoto's smile fell away. "You're not..." He glanced up at Haru, then away.

"I'm not...?" Confused about the change in mood, Haru looked down at where Makoto's eyeline had been. Oh. "We haven't done anything yet."

"It's my job to fix that, then, isn't it?" Makoto kissed Haru's knee, then stood up. Haru followed him with his eyes, turning to look over his shoulder as Makoto climbed onto the bed behind him. "It'll be easier like this," he explained, looping his arms around Haru's waist. His legs on either side of Haru's hugged him as well. Haru decided he liked that, so much that he pushed himself back into the double Makoto-hug. Makoto jerked away. "Wait, don't--!"

Haru had to analyze the memory-feeling before he understood what was wrong. "It's okay," he said. "I already know Makoto gets hard for boys." He tilted his head back, laying it on the edge of Makoto's shoulder and looking up at an extreme close-up of his friend's face. "Last I checked, I was a boy."

Uttering a half-whine, half-sigh, Makoto buried his face in Haru's shoulder. "You're horrible," he said, muffled.

"I'm getting bored," Haru complained. "Are you going to touch me, or should I do it myself?"

"Haru!" But Makoto was laughing now. He kissed the side of Haru's neck and wrapped both arms back around Haru's middle. "Yes. Show me how you do it."

Finding himself a little flustered at his very focused audience of one, Haru obediently took himself in hand. Going from a cold start was strange. It'd been at least a year since he'd had both the desire and the time to do it.

Keenly aware of Makoto's attention, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the feel of his body. He stroked himself from root to tip for a while, then squeezed the shaft lightly, absorbing the pressure and the heat from his hand until he felt comfortable. Then he pushed his foreskin down to expose the sensitive tip for his fingers to work at. He rubbed the spot just under the head rapidly until he began to feel that semi-familiar tightening in his gut that was either pleasurable or irritating, depending on the circumstances and his mood. 

Makoto watched for several minutes, silent except for his deep breaths in Haru's ear. Then he ran his fingers down Haru's sides, ending on the tops of his thighs. At his pause, Haru spread his legs wider in silent invitation. Makoto made a brief sound, before he cupped Haru's testicles with one large hand. 

It wasn't as strange as Haru might have expected, having his friend hold him so intimately. As Makoto began to gently massage him, he even sighed in pleasure. It was obvious that Makoto was directing all of his considerable affection, care, and indulgence on Haru. Having Makoto's undivided attention was like being the center of the universe.

"Hm?" Makoto questioned. He didn't seem to expect an answer, though, so Haru felt free not to say anything. He leaned back against Makoto, knowing he would take his weight, and he turned his head into Makoto's neck.

Makoto's natural scent, beneath the woody floral of his bath products, was sweetly earthy with a slight tang. Haru had known it since childhood, from countless times being in his friend's room and occasionally sharing clothes and beds. A low thrum of musk had intruded once Makoto hit puberty. When Haru had mentioned it to his friend, Makoto had panicked and avoided being near people for a month. Haru was used to it now. He'd never had the chance to tell Makoto that he didn't mind -- actually had never minded -- his new scent. It'd simply become part of what he recognized as intrinsically _Makoto_.

A soft brush against his neck startled him, before he relaxed into more of Makoto's light, humming kisses. He became aware of Makoto's hand covering his. He withdrew his own and let Makoto take over where he'd left off.

Having someone else touch him was dissatisfying in its inefficiency yet compelling in its unpredictability. Makoto circled the head, spreading the moisture that had started to gather there down the shaft. Forming a ring with his fingers, he squeezed and stimulated the tip where Haru had shown him. His other hand rolled Haru's testicles, alternating light caresses with stronger strokes, something Haru had never thought to try there before.

Haru had been wrong about Makoto's hands no longer being chapped. On his most delicate parts, he could feel every tiny catch and drag. His skin was wildly over-sensitive wherever Makoto touched him.

After a while, Makoto stopped and reached for his end table that doubled as a nightstand. He retrieved a tube that looked vaguely medical.

"What's that for?" Haru asked, disappointed at the loss of Makoto's hands.

"You'll see." Makoto flipped it open and squeezed out clear gel to lightly coat both his hands. When he touched Haru again, it was slippery. Everything glistened and Makoto's hand movements made wet, sucking sounds. "How does that feel, Haru?"

The tightening in Haru's gut intensified at the sight and the sounds, in addition to the physical stimulation. He shifted and gripped Makoto's legs. His muscles tensed without his direction, and he had to remind himself to breathe normally. His penis had swollen and hardened in that peculiar way that made Haru feel shaky and out of control of his own body. "Makoto..."

Makoto groaned deep in his chest, more vibration than sound. He bucked once against Haru's back, and Haru could feel his hardness against him. "S-Sorry. I'm sorry, Haru." He turned his head towards Makoto, startled to see that his face was flushed, and he was breathing deeply through his slightly opened mouth.

Haru brushed his fingers over Makoto's forehead. It was hot and damp with sweat. He pushed Makoto's hair out of his eyes. "Touching me arouses you?" He could feel Makoto's thighs trembling against his own. It was rather alarming.

Makoto's hands on him faltered. "You... You're so beautiful, and you trust me this much. I can't believe I'm the one making you like this. I love you so much, Haru." He sounded close to tears.

"Makoto? Makoto, don't cry." He twisted around to put his arms around Makoto's middle. "It's all right."

"I'm not--" Makoto laughed, wiping his eyes. "Here." He pulled Haru with him until they were lying down, leaving wet patches on Haru's body that were small enough that Haru hesitated to comment on it. Besides, he wasn't sure yet whether he found it pleasant or irritating. Reaching for the end table again, Makoto came back with a small, square packet. "It's okay," he said quickly, when Haru froze. "I just want to..." He knelt up and backed his way down between Haru's legs. "I'm just going to use my mouth," he finished in a mumble, speaking mostly to his own hands.

Haru got up on his elbows and watched with curiosity as Makoto tore the packet open and took out the object inside. 

"Let me see?"

"Hm? Oh." Makoto handed it over. "You've never seen one before, huh?"

Haru turned the ring-shaped condom over in his hand. He rubbed the rubbery material and sniffed it. After his parents had left for Tokyo, Haru had come across some condoms in their bedroom drawer while searching for a glasses repair kit for Makoto. He'd made a note to go back and open one, but he'd never gotten around to it before he'd forgotten the matter. He handed it back now and gave Makoto a questioning look.

"It, um, goes on this way," Makoto explained, demonstrating. He was blushing badly. "This pocket here is where the, um, where it goes, after. It'll feel a little tight, but that's normal." After Makoto had finished rolling the condom down, it did feel strange, but not uncomfortable. Makoto stroked Haru's penis, and through the condom, it felt slightly muted, lacking the catch of Makoto's skin. Still not meeting Haru's eyes, he asked, "Are you ready?" Haru didn't normally ascribe adjectives to his friends, but at the moment, he couldn't help but think of Makoto as 'cute'.

He touched Makoto's heated cheek. "I trust you." That got Makoto to look at him, at least, though it did nothing for his blush. Haru smiled. Makoto had always been so easy to embarrass, so easy to overwhelm with emotion -- both positive and negative. He sat up and took Makoto's face in both his hands. He kissed Makoto's forehead. "There," he said, rather nonsensically.

Makoto made a sort of high-pitched whine that sounded involuntary. Then he buried his face in Haru's shoulder again. The next moment, Haru startled as he felt Makoto's hands on him again, caressing Haru's back, waist, and hips. "I want to make you feel so good, Haru," Makoto declared, bolder in his new favorite hiding spot. "I want to touch you in every way you'll let me." Makoto backed away and lowered his head, engulfing Haru with his mouth.

It was... warm. The pressure was less than their hands but all around and soft and focused. Makoto went down only a little more than a handful of centimeters, but the head was the most sensitive anyway, and he kept teasing there with swipes of his agile tongue. After a while, he lifted off and placed long, sucking kisses down the shaft, even licking and sucking Haru's testicles for a good while before meandering his way up again.

Haru sat back, supporting himself on his arms, and closed his eyes to feel all the new sensations Makoto was causing. His penis felt like it was swelling. It was tight, like Makoto had said, but he didn't think that was entirely due to the condom. His arms were shivering. He opened his mouth and was surprised when he let out a grunt. "It's good," he said, when he could manage to speak clearly.

Makoto made that odd whining sound, causing Haru to open his eyes, just in time to watch as Makoto's cheeks caved in a little, a split-second before a pulling, sucking sensation made his toes and fingers clench. He panted and tried to concentrate on what exactly Makoto was doing to him. Makoto hummed and continued to suck the tip, his fingers pumping and massaging the rest. Haru squirmed at the onslaught of sensation. It was... good. So good. Too good. Suddenly, without meaning to, Haru's hips thrust upwards, and Makoto choked and backed off.

"Stop," Haru said immediately.

"Haru, it's okay. That happens all the time." Makoto moved to continue.

"No." Rough in his haste, he shoved Makoto out of the way, then scraped off the condom and threw it on the floor. Taking himself in hand, he finished quickly, the way he usually did, the fizzing sensation diffuse but building, holding his breath so that his heart pounded in his ears, like being underwater, like swimming at full speed, until one last shudder -- and then heat bloomed over him, and his muscles felt weak, and milky white come spilled out over his hand.

He panted, one hand braced on his knee, his messy hand out in front of him like some strange offering.

"Here." He fell gratefully into Makoto's inviting embrace, his turn to hide. He panted the last of his reaction out while Makoto cleaned his hand carefully with a tissue he had procured from somewhere. He'd never noticed before how annoyingly coarse and dry the fibers were. He thought he could feel every snag in the sheets and every fold of Makoto's clothes against him, every whisper of air.

When that was done, Makoto enfolded Haru in a loose embrace, one hand stroking Haru's hair. Haru could tell that anxious questions and soothing words were crowding his friend's throat, but he remained blessedly silent, waiting, knowing just what Haru needed, like always.

As the world slowly solidified back into place in its rightful order, Haru realized how nice it felt to have Makoto's strong fingers combing through his hair. Makoto hadn't touched him like this since they were in grade school when they occasionally washed each other's hair. He reached up to stroke Makoto's in turn, wondering if it matched what he remembered. Makoto's hair was coarser than his own, thick and layered in multiple shades of light to medium brown. Haru imagined it, covered with suds.

Makoto giggled and asked in a sing-song, "Have you washed your hair, I wonder? Rub, rub, rub it clean."

It was the bathtub song that Auntie Tachibana had taught them. Makoto must have been reminded of their childhood days as well. Haru answered, "Yes, I've washed my hair. Shiny, shiny, clean." He scrubbed his hands roughly through Makoto's hair as evidence.

"Ow, stop it! Haru!" Makoto tried to remove Haru's hands, but Haru fought him until his larger friend succeeded in wrestling him down, pinning him to the bed by his wrists and thighs. Haru looked up at his friend, utter contentment filling him. Makoto's eyes were squinched in laughter and his hair was in complete disarray.

Makoto's clothes were as rumpled as his hair, and Haru was dismayed to see that his lips were slightly swollen.

"It's okay," Makoto said, as usual reading his mind. He kissed Haru's cheek before letting him up. Aside from the sex, they'd touched each other more in the last hour than they normally did in a year. Some barrier between them seemed to have come down. Haru wondered if it was only with him, or if sex affected Makoto this way with all of his partners. In any case, Makoto was right. Sharing your body with another person was a unique experience, even if Haru wasn't sure yet if he liked all aspects of it.

Thinking about Makoto's lips reminded Haru to ask, "It happens all the time?"

Makoto's eyes unfocused as he thought back, and then he made a silent 'Oh' of understanding. Lowering his eyes in an unaccountably shamed expression, he said, "Giving a blow job isn't as easy as it looks. I still need a lot of practice."

It hadn't actually looked very easy, Haru thought. He wondered if he'd be able to do it if their roles were reversed. Speaking of which... "You should take your clothes off now."

The person who had just given Haru a blow job should not look that shocked at such a logical suggestion. "Why?"

"You haven't come yet."

"That's not necessary. I just wanted to make you feel good."

"The whole point of this was for you to have sex with me."

"Well, yes, but this was your first time. It should have been special. I messed it up already."

"No, you didn't. It was perfect. Now, you." Copying Makoto's earlier actions, Haru scooted close and slid his hands down Makoto's sides, being careful to be firm and not too fast. Once he reached the waistband of Makoto's pants, he unbuttoned them, noting the significant bulge underneath.

Makoto must have been holding his breath, because he let it out all at once when Haru started pulling the zipper down.

"Would you prefer I use my mouth?" Haru asked him in his most serious voice.

"Haru!" Makoto grabbed him in a bear hug and rolled onto his back, taking Haru with him. He held Haru tightly to himself so that Haru couldn't see his face.

He wondered if Makoto was this bashful with his prior sex partners. He couldn't see anyone putting up with this kind of behavior throughout the entire encounter -- and the sort of people who liked their sex partners perpetually blushing and stammering weren't people Haru wanted near his sweet, sensitive friend.

"Are you always this shy during sex?" 

Makoto whined into Haru's neck. "It's different with you."

"Why?"

"I've known you all my life. It's-- weird, hearing you say things like that."

Maybe Makoto had a point. If Haru always thought of him as 'sweet and sensitive', it might make it hard for him to act differently. Haru knew a thing or two about pressure from other people's expectations. "I'll stop."

"It's not your fault. I just need to... adjust my thinking."

Haru grimaced. "We need to adjust our position too. Your zipper is digging into my penis."

Makoto laughed again, putting a hand over his eyes. "You can call it your 'cock' or your 'dick' during sex, Haru. Honestly." He let Haru up, then worked his pants off and kicked them over the side to the floor.

"Your 'cock' is still in your underwear," Haru said dutifully. "Do you want me to help with that?" He took from Makoto's muffled squeak that he did, so he tugged the elastic of Makoto's boxers up over his erection and pulled it down Makoto's long legs. "It's bigger than mine," he observed. 

"Haru..." Both of Makoto's hands were over his eyes now.

"Shirt."

"I can do it myself." Haru hadn't meant to help anyway, so he sat back as Makoto unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, then wriggled out of it, also tossing it 'overboard'. He did the same with the undershirt he had on, completely baring the wide expanse of his pale skin.

Now, what? Haru frowned as he considered where to start. Makoto had touched Haru's body first, before he'd started stimulating his genitals. Maybe that was what he liked himself.

"I, um, don't look as good as I used to, huh?"

It took a second for Haru to understand what Makoto was saying. His friend rarely read him so poorly. Looking over Makoto's body with a more analytical focus, he could see that Makoto had indeed lost some of his conditioning over the last year, which was only expected as he was no longer in competitive training. He was still above average in fitness, however, having kept up with running and visiting the pool at least once a week for both exercise and recreational swimming.

Haru rested his cheek on Makoto's now slightly softer belly. It reminded him of when Makoto was much younger, when his cheeks were round with baby fat and his body was soft. They'd started swimming in grade school, turning his pudgy body harder and leaner. Then he'd hit his first growth spurt just before junior high, when he'd abruptly become taller than Haru, ate everything in sight, and still never put on any weight. Then another growth spurt in the first year of high school had seemed to stretch his best friend both up and out, before they'd started the Swim Club, toning Makoto's body into the sculpturesque figure that had won the muscles contest at the ITSCR grand opening.

There'd been a few years when he hadn't swum with Makoto, during the time when Haru had retreated into himself, unable to confront his feelings about Rin and swimming. More than likely, Makoto had softened with the lack of rigorous training then as well. Haru liked to think that this was what Makoto had looked like then. He liked to believe that he was getting something back now that he had lost. "I wish I'd been there," he said out loud.

To anyone else, that would have been incomprehensible, but Makoto stroked his hair soothingly. "You're here now."

Haru liked the feel of Makoto's fingers in his hair. He would have gladly stayed there -- except that his current position made it fairly clear to him that Makoto had other things on his mind. Just centimeters from his chin, Makoto's erection lay large and heavy against his thigh. Haru wondered if it had ever abated completely. He couldn't imagine how annoying it must be to stay hard for this long.

He took Makoto's 'cock' in hand and stroked it experimentally. Makoto's belly quivered under him as he took an audible breath.

Makoto's penis was slightly longer than his own, as Haru had observed, and thicker in his hand. It was heavy, the skin delicate and fever-hot. When Haru slid the foreskin back, Makoto shivered, and when he thumbed the slit, clear fluid welled up and Makoto's legs moved restlessly. He circled the head with his thumb for a minute, spreading the moisture around and stroking the sensitive tip. After a while of enjoying the half-stifled groans Makoto emitted, he sat up so he could stroke the rest of Makoto's length with his other hand. It was now standing against Makoto's belly, the foreskin stretched taut, the veins standing out, and the head leaking a steady line of fluid.

It didn't seem fair for Makoto to come from just a hand job after he'd spent at least half an hour attending to Haru's pleasure in multiple ways. Remembering what Makoto had done at the end, Haru leaned down and opened his mouth to lick.

"Haru... Haru, wait!"

Haru lifted his head, leaving off his ministrations.

Makoto's was up on his elbows, watching. His chest was flushed, and he was breathing heavily. After closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Makoto reached up to grab another small packet. He sat up and ripped it open, but Haru put his hand over Makoto's and took the condom from him. Makoto, understanding, helped him place it correctly, then watched as Haru rolled it down.

He checked with his friend, wanting to know if everything was as it should be. Makoto's eyes were on him, the half-lowered lids making him look uncharacteristically sly. His prominent Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. 

"Why are you so aroused?" Haru asked him. He'd barely touched him yet, really.

Makoto's eyes widened, and Haru could see how dilated they were. "You're..." Makoto licked his lips, obviously having trouble speaking. "What you were doing felt so good. And you were about to--" He was apparently still too bashful to finish the sentence out loud.

"Just thinking about it arouses you?"

"Haru..." Makoto whined. "You already came. Could we discuss this after I've caught up?"

Right.

Makoto's penis, encased in its protective covering as it was, tasted disagreeably of latex and reminded Haru of a nurse's office. Once he'd been at it for a while, however, his own saliva coating the surface made the activity more tolerable. With more enthusiasm, he tongued the tip and applied kisses up and down the length as Makoto had done, stroking with one hand all the while. Makoto kept his hips still as Haru had failed to do, but his flesh trembled, sometimes violently, and his upper body twisted in what Haru would have thought was discomfort in a different context. Makoto uttered strained whimpering sounds that he kept trying to smother behind one hand.

Disappointingly soon, strained jaw and tongue muscles forced Haru to stop. Makoto had been right. This was more difficult than he'd expected. Finally reaching his limit, he sat up. His lips were tingling, perhaps swollen the way Makoto's had been. Continuing to stroke with one hand, he looked at Makoto's face.

Makoto was lying flat, the back of one wrist over his mouth. Where his lips met his skin, a sheen of moisture glistened. He was staring at the ceiling in a daze. His other hand was clenching and unclenching arrhythmically around a corner of his wrinkled pillow cover. A bead of sweat was making its way from under the shaggy hair at Makoto's temple toward his ear. As Haru watched, it hung at the edge for what felt like an eternity, then dripped into the recess of Makoto's ear. Makoto flinched and jerked his head to the side as if someone had flicked him on the cheek.

Haru had never seen his friend like this before. It was mesmerizing. He leaned over and kissed Makoto's ear where that droplet had been. Inadvertently, he picked up the salt of Makoto's sweat on his lips. Although he grimaced instinctively, it wasn't entirely disgusting, not like how he would have imagined it. It was the taste of Makoto. Like his scent, it was something that made up his friend. He licked his lips, fascinated.

"Ah... Haru..." Makoto tensed. Sensing how close Makoto was, Haru sped up his strokes, tightening his hand. The angle might be wrong, the feel subtly different, but he knew how to finish this. He wanted to make Makoto feel as good as Makoto had done for him.

"Let go," he said into Makoto's ear, and Makoto's hips surged up.

"Haru! Ah... Ah, Haru. Oh!"

If Haru had ever had to think about it, he might have thought that Makoto would come with muted gasps, curling into himself, hiding himself in that bashful way that he had. In reality, Makoto cried out, full-voiced, and arched his back in an extreme bow like his first leap from the starting wall, all his long limbs extended.

Unlike when he swam, Makoto's movements soon lost coordination. He thrashed his head, rubbing himself against the sheets in a seeming frenzy. His legs shook while his long toes spread and curled alternately. His hands supplanted Haru's, and Haru stared in amazement as his friend milked every last shudder of pleasure from himself. It looked completely instinctual and unconscious. He looked completely lost in his own world.

All the time, Makoto was murmuring, "Haru... Haru... Oh, _Haru_ ," under his breath.

This was what made Makoto free. This was what made Makoto feel most at ease, most entirely and unapologetically himself. In this moment, everything about Makoto was heartbreakingly genuine and unbearably beautiful.

After what seemed a worryingly long time, Makoto's pants finally began to slow towards a normal resting rate. Tears tracked out of the corners of his closed eyes, sliding into the sweat-dampened hair at his temples. Haru brushed through the stream from Makoto's right eye with his thumb. "Do you always cry when you come?"

Makoto turned his face away. He hunched one shoulder up as if to hide behind it. Haru hated that. Makoto should never have to hide himself.

"I didn't mean you shouldn't. That was beautiful, Makoto. Thank you for showing me that."

Makoto looked over his shoulder at him, his green eyes still watery. His bright irises were reclaiming ground from the dark pupils. Like the transformation of that lust-filled, wild creature back into his gentle Makoto, it was mesmerizing. "Beautiful?"

With only a moment of hesitation, Haru lay down behind Makoto and scooted close until they were touching.

The sensation of Makoto's bare skin against his made Haru shiver. He could never be frightened of his friend, but the feeling was disconcertingly foreign and intimate. He almost never let people get this close to him. Even his coach had learned not to touch him when correcting his form unless absolutely necessary. Touch like this was reserved for a very few people in Haru's life.

"Beautiful," he affirmed. He put one arm over Makoto's shoulder and moved his top leg over Makoto's hip, enclosing him in a protective net made up of Haru's body. It was awkward, with his other leg and arm squashed between them and the pillow askew, the fabric warm, but holding Makoto, so vulnerable and open like this, made Haru feel full and content.

They lay like that for a while. Makoto's gradually less audible inhales and exhales slowed into long, sleepy breaths until Haru, listening, found himself dozing along. "We should clean up," he heard Makoto mumble once, but he simply put his hand atop Makoto's chest, and his friend subsided back into silence.

It was an indeterminate amount of time later when Haru groggily heard Makoto's voice again, complaining about something. Blinking sleep out of his eyes, Haru checked the clock. They'd only been napping for fifteen minutes. It'd felt longer. He felt energized.

"Oh, yuck. I should have... Ow, ow, ow." Haru peered over Makoto's shoulder. Makoto was fussing with the condom, wincing as he worked it off the base. Finally, he tied the end tightly, then tossed it toward the foot of the bed before lying back down with a sigh of relief. Haru made a mental note to make sure to pick it up later.

"Does that happen a lot?" Haru asked him.

"No. It, um, leaked down after and dried."

"You should start trimming again."

"Ugh, no. It's so much trouble, and it's not like I need to worry about getting caught in my swimsuits anymore."

Haru huffed. "If I have to, you should have to."

"That doesn't make any sense."

Haru hid a smile in Makoto's broad back.

"I can feel you laughing at me from back there! Stop it. You're so mean."

"That's not what you said twenty minutes ago."

Makoto froze. He turned and rolled over on top of Haru, staring down at him. "Did you just make a sex joke?"

He mentally reviewed what he had said. "Maybe."

Makoto chuckled, the fledgling sound turning into a full-throated laugh that tapered off only slowly, resurging in fits and starts. "Haru, you're impossible." He continued giggling into the crook of Haru's neck for several minutes. Haru wasn't sure why his relatively tame joke was so enormously funny to his friend, but it always made him feel warm inside to see Makoto happy. Furthermore, Makoto's large, heated body pressed on top of him was more pleasant than expected. He wriggled a bit until he was more comfortable, then lay still and enjoyed the sensation.

After Makoto finally let him up, they took stock of their situation. The bedclothes were a mess. Makoto's clothing was tossed all around, from his pants right next to the bed to his shirt nearly all the way across the room. Haru looked down to find his own clothes in a relatively neater if haphazard pile, but the discarded condom from earlier lay slack on Makoto's hardwood floor. He grimaced. The place looked like a localized and tackily melodramatic hurricane had been through it.

Makoto, too, glanced at Haru's discarded clothing, then gasped. "You didn't wear your swimsuit today!"

"I packed it in my bag. In case we go swimming later."

"Just like I'd expect of Haru." Makoto gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Want to go to the pool?"

Haru couldn't imagine anything better.

***

Makoto took a quick shower and then ate some breakfast while Haru had another quiet soak. The latter was unfortunately dissatisfactory for two reasons. First, the tub was both too shallow and too small. Haru had objected to this apartment at the beginning of the year, but Makoto had wanted to move to be closer to his university, and he couldn't argue that. Second, what enjoyment he could eke out from the substandard bath was cut short when Makoto knocked and then poked his head in barely fifteen minutes after he got in.

"Honestly, we're going to the pool. Do you really need a bath, too?"

Haru sighed. Usually, he'd submerge himself upon Makoto's arrival, maximizing his time in the water. Since he could barely get his knees wet here anyway, he obediently held out his hand first for Makoto to come pull him out. It didn't occur to him until he actually had his hand in Makoto's larger one that it'd been weeks since this had happened. When he stood and looked his childhood friend in the eye, Makoto's blushing face told him that Makoto had forgotten as well. 

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Makoto said, making a not quite successful effort to appear casual. "It's kind of nostalgic."

"Don't dawdle," Haru replied shortly, wrapping his towel around his waist.

He smiled internally as Makoto's stilted discomfort morphed into his usual exasperated "Haru...!" behind him.

Once he was dressed and they were on the way to Makoto's university, the walk lazy and comfortable, Haru asked, "Did it work?"

Makoto hitched his gym bag up on his shoulder and frowned thoughtfully at the sidewalk ahead. "I'm not sure. I do feel better now. I mean, I'm walking next to you, and I feel okay. More relaxed." He glanced over nervously, flicking his gaze down Haru's body. "But that might just be because I just... you know."

"Had an orgasm?"

"Haru!" Makoto looked around them and ducked his head. Haru was pretty sure that attracted more attention than their conversation alone had, but no amount of logic could cure Makoto of his bashfulness. It didn't bother Haru, either way. To him, words were just words, and Makoto was Makoto.

"You think it'll come back, then?"

"You're obviously still as attractive as you were before. To be honest, I'm not sure why I didn't have this problem before. It isn't as if I never knew you were good-looking."

"You only like sleeping with people who enjoy it. You didn't see me as someone who would like sex." He'd thought about this too, and that was the conclusion he'd come to.

"I guess so. I should have realized earlier. I should have asked you more questions instead of assuming."

"It's really okay, Makoto. You were mostly right, anyway. I don't think about sex. It's usually kind of a bother."

Makoto hunched his shoulders again. "I'm sorry."

"I didn't mean today. Today was..." Haru tried to think of a word to encapsulate what it was like to be that close to Makoto, to feel his bare skin on him in his most intimate places, to have his scent and taste on him, to watch him come. He couldn't come up with a good enough adjective, so he simply said, "I liked it."

Makoto's entire body lit up. "Did you really? Oh, I'm so glad, Haru-chan."

"You're adding -chan to my name _now_?" Haru grumbled, disbelieving.

Makoto laughed, as usual with no apology. He looked at Haru again, and this time, his gaze lingered like it would have, weeks ago, comfortable and familiar and confident in its reception despite Haru's (half) affected scowl. "What if it does come back, Haru?" he asked, not so nervously now, more thoughtful -- sharing a worry instead of apologizing for a fault.

"We'll deal with that if it happens," Haru told him, already looking forward to floating in the pool instead of worrying over hypothetical problems.

  
END Interlude - Makoto.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... thoughts? :)
> 
> Also, listen to some Japanese Children's Songs [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S-Xheb94Gls).


	8. Part IV: Hikaru, Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _If what was happening was what Makoto suspected, then he was in big trouble._

* * *

**PART IV: Hikaru**

* * *

  


It didn't come back.

To Makoto's relief, that burning hyperawareness of his best friend's body didn't intrude on their relationship anymore. When he saw Haru now, he still knew intellectually that Haru was an acutely attractive man, but more than anything else, Makoto felt what he'd always felt for the boy he'd grown up with -- love, belonging, comfort, admiration, exasperation, worry, pride.

Haru, for his part, seemed to have put the incident completely behind him. He showed no more or less inclination to touch Makoto. He showed no more or less reaction when Makoto touched him, whether irritation or pleasure.

And yet...

Something was different about Haru. Makoto couldn't quite put his finger on what, but it seemed to him that his friend looked more _present_ than he once had. His movements were more dynamic, his expressions more refined. He made observations with an astuteness that Makoto somehow hadn't appreciated before. His outfits, while materially the same, looked better put together. His cooking tasted more exquisite. His handwriting had more character.

On more than one occasion, Makoto caught himself thinking about Haru and smiling fondly. It was around the tenth time that happened that Makoto realized that the changes he'd been seeing in Haru may in fact be all in his own head.

If what was happening was what Makoto suspected, then he was in big trouble.

***

"Well, this is different," Ichirou commented, squinting through his sunglasses, the kind Makoto was used to seeing on people driving motorcycles, not while walking across a park.

"You didn't have to come." Makoto elbowed Haru. "Thanks for coming," Haru corrected smoothly without acknowledging Makoto's interference.

"Uh, sure," Ichirou replied, looking uncertainly between them. Shuuji, having gotten more used to Haru's foibles, unsuccessfully smothered a giggle, earning him a mild glare from Haru.

"That looks like a good spot." Kazuhiko pointed at a patch of grass that looked dry and flat. No shade, but it was late spring, and they probably had more to worry about from sudden rain showers than the weak sunshine. Makoto set the basket down. He and Kazu laid out the tarp together, and then the picnic blanket on top of it.

"I haven't gone on a picnic in years," Ryo said, falling backwards on the blanket.

"Not even for the cherry blossoms?" Makoto asked in some surprise. Ryo was a native Tokyo-ite. Makoto had thought that all of Tokyo must be mad about the cherry blossom viewing festival. Advertisements and community notices had blanketed the city for the month of April. Perhaps it was because they didn't see too much of nature normally. Makoto had always enjoyed the spring hike and picnic in the mountains that his family took each year, as well as the classroom trips to the parks when he was in grade school, but he found springtime in Tokyo, like everything else in the metropolis, a little overwhelming.

"Nah. My parents don't like the crowds." 

Haru was unpacking the basket, laying plastic containers and packages of snacks artfully around Ryo's sprawled body. Ryo, unperturbed, snagged a bag of chocolate wafers from beside his elbow and opened it up. That was the signal for everyone to remove their shoes and pile onto the blanket, shoving a complaining Ryo into a sitting position to make room for the rest of them.

"Wow, these rice balls are great," Shuuji commented, popping one whole into his mouth.

"Haru's a great cook," Makoto said proudly. Shuuji raised an eyebrow at him. With his mouth distended by food, it looked especially comical.

"Makoto washed the rice," Haru said. The group snickered, and Makoto sighed. For some reason, everyone had an indelible impression of him as a disaster in the kitchen, despite the fact that he had actually learned to make some basic dishes in the past year, thank you very much.

"Haru, stop trying to help." He could tell the difference between Haru being clueless and Haru teasing him. Indeed, Haru smiled down at the orange he was peeling. He did offer half of the orange to Makoto though, so Makoto forgave him.

"Are Masaki and Takumi coming?" Kazu asked, after they'd made a considerable dent in their feast.

Ichirou rolled his eyes. "Probably stopped to make out somewhere."

Shuuji leaned back on his hands. "We should all be so lucky." He gave Ichirou a lascivious look. Ichirou scowled at him and then checked quickly around the park for onlookers.

"Yo, Makoto!"

"Talk about people behind their backs, and here they come." Shuuji's momentarily dejected expression flipped quickly into cheerfulness as he looked up behind Makoto.

Makoto turned to greet their new arrivals -- then shrieked and automatically seized Haru's shoulders and fell behind him. Everyone except Haru and Makoto burst out laughing. "What is that?" Makoto demanded, abashedly realizing that the white fluttery thing was not in fact a spirit or something worse.

Takumi pitched the object at Makoto so that he was forced to catch it. A sketched-on face smiled cheerily at him from the pile of cloth gathered around what he thought was probably a soccer ball. Takumi was in the soccer club at his school. "Masaki mentioned he hoped it wouldn't rain, and I had some leftover cloth from when we painted the cabinets, so we made a super version Sunshine Doll."

Makoto held it up. Indeed, it was a large version of the tissue paper dolls for warding off the rain, the kind that he and millions of other kids made and hung in windows before field trips and outdoor sports events and other outings.

"Get rid of it." Haru's deep, humorless voice interrupted their jovial atmosphere.

"Haru, it was just a joke," Makoto hurried to placate him. "It was funny." Nagisa had used to tease him, too. As embarrassing as it was, even he knew he was particularly susceptible to fright gags and gave the most entertaining reactions. No one meant any harm.

"Get rid of it," Haru repeated, leveling his emotionless glare at Takumi.

"Er. Yeah, of course. We need the ball for soccer, anyway."

Shuuji whistled into the moment of awkward silence. "Shit-hot and aggressive."

There was a brief pause before, again, everyone except Makoto and Haru laughed. To Makoto's chagrin, he realized that everyone currently present had also been at that karaoke night. To his further chagrin, he was blushing madly at Shuuji's joke.

"What?" Haru demanded.

"Nothing," Makoto denied quickly.

Confirmed. He was in very, very big trouble.

***

"So. You and Haru."

Haru's ill-fated matchmaking activities early this semester had had the propitious effect of bringing Shuuji and Makoto closer together. Upon reflection, Makoto wondered if that had been some kind of 'back-up plan' in Haru's head. However, he could be assigning deeper motives to his friend than warranted. While he'd always been good at guessing what Haru was thinking, he didn't think he was capable of being as objective as before.

In any case, he and Shuuji now sometimes found themselves spending free time together in daytime activities. After Makoto had moved this semester, their apartments were only fifteen minutes apart on the same line. Having lunch and hanging out with Shuuji after he'd spent a night out was a way for Makoto to enjoy the night scene vicariously now that he didn't join them as often.

Shuuji never expressly said why he accepted his invitations, but Makoto thought maybe he liked having someone he could be open with. As flamboyant as he was at night, in the bright light of the day-to-day, Shuuji shared Makoto's small-town sensibilities. People in Tokyo were nice enough but tended to be somewhat distant, in comparison to what Makoto was used to, often seeming to perform politeness by rote. Shuuji wasn't like that.

Even though Shuuji was from the opposite side of the island from Iwatobi, Makoto and he shared space with similar comfort, talking and living at a slower pace from the outside world. With each other, they could reminisce about truly fresh vegetables and clean air, and laugh about Tokyo trends that would make their parents gape. Shuuji even had tips for Makoto's houseplants, since his mother was an avid gardener. Makoto was liking this 'daytime Shuuji' more and more.

Except for when he was just a little too observant, like now.

"Huh?" Makoto concentrated on scrolling through his song collection.

"There's something different about you two. I can't quite put my finger on it, but something's going on."

"Techno or punk?" he asked, trying to distract his friend. Without waiting for an answer, he chose something at random which was neither, and pressed play.

Before Makoto could react, Shuuji had snatched his phone from his hand and killed the prologue music of a movie soundtrack. "You're avoiding the question. Now I'm really curious. Seriously, what's going on with you two?"

"Nothing."

"That was not convincing. You're a very bad liar, Makoto-chan." Expression teasing, Shuuji held the phone behind his back as he plopped down on Makoto's bed -- in the exact spot where Makoto had lain on top of his very naked friend just two weeks ago.

"I've known Haru all my life. What could possibly be different now?"

Shuuji was perfectly silent for a few seconds before exclaiming, in a tone that was horror crossed with pure delight, "Oh, _fuck_. You and Haru did it, didn't you?"

"Wh-What?" Makoto made a half-hearted grab for his phone.

Huffing, Shuuji twisted away. "Now I'm feeling insulted. You always said you two weren't like that."

"We weren't! We're not!" he denied quickly, trying to grab his phone back without actually touching the bed.

"Uh-huh," Shuuji said, skeptically. "What was this, then?"

"Honestly, I have no idea. It just kind of happened. Give it back!"

Shuuji rolled his eyes and tossed the phone back to him, with lazy enough accuracy that Makoto had to dive to get it. "Okay, _you_ are a total slut, but Haru doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who just falls into bed with someone."

"He's really not," Makoto agreed morosely, hugging the phone to him. Now that he had it, there were no easy distractions left.

"So...?"

Makoto deliberated internally. If he told Shuuji outright that he didn't want to talk about it, he'd probably back off, but this had been driving Makoto crazy for a couple of weeks. It would feel good to get another person's opinion on it. "It was my fault," he finally said.

Shuuji groaned and fell back on the bed. "I've heard that one before. You think everything's your fault, Makoto."

"Really, this time. I don't know where it came from. I just suddenly started... noticing how handsome Haru is."

"You grew up together. You were in a _swim club_ together. Haven't you seen him naked before?"

"Yes. Lots of times."

"And...?" Shuuji got up on one elbow and speared him with a pointed look.

Makoto could only shake his head. "I know, it was crazy, and very embarrassing. Haru was so nice about it, though. He was really worried about me. We tried to just ignore it, but I couldn't stop, um, thinking about him. Then he suggested it might go away if we slept together, and so we did, and that fixed it, and here we are." Summarized out loud like that, Makoto wasn't sure if it sounded more insane or less so. Many aspects of his and Haru's relationship were like that -- normal for those on the inside, yet confounding to explain to strangers.

Indeed, Shuuji's expressive face was contorting through a series of emotions. "If that weren't exactly what I'd expect of you two, I'd think it was an unbelievably stupid cover story for something sordid." He shrugged, laughing it off. "Okay. So, I guess you two are now the most disgustingly sweet and codependent couple in Japan?" He smirked. "How will we be able to tell the difference from before?"

Makoto tried to suppress the upsurge of his newfound feelings, but he couldn't quite keep the regret out of his voice when he answered, "No, that was just a one-time thing."

Shuuji's face fell. "Oh, Makoto... I don't get it. You guys are best friends, and apparently you're attracted to each other, so what's the problem?"

"Haru doesn't feel that way about me. Once we fixed the problem, he forgot all about it." He didn't blame his friend. He really didn't. Haru had never been anything but completely honest with him. It still felt good to express a tiny bit of frustration to a sympathetic ear.

Shuuji frowned. "Look, I know Haru's your big-little-brother and you think he's a god in the water and perfect in every way--"

"I do not!" Makoto cried out. Shuuji ignored him.

"--but no guy is that selfless. Or that completely oblivious. If he suggested that you sleep together then he's not as straight as he says. You sure he wasn't just using you? I mean, being curious is fine, but he shouldn't make it seem like it's all your fault. That's a lousy way to treat a friend."

"No, he never made it seem it was my fault. Actually, he insisted that it was his fault for making me feel... you know." Makoto decided to leave out the part where Haru had indeed been 'curious'. It wasn't the way Shuuji meant it, anyway, and Haru's sexuality wasn't for Makoto to speculate or gossip about. "He doesn't see it as being selfless. It was a problem that was making me uncomfortable, and he could fix it, so he did. Haru's very straightforward that way, and he cares a lot about how I feel." When he noticed, anyway. "He's been protecting me from everything he can since we were practically babies. He's the same with all his friends. That's just the way he is. It's not obvious to some people, but Haru's really a good person."

"Shit," Shuuji pronounced. "You're completely in love with him, aren't you?"

Makoto had been avoiding saying -- even thinking -- those words. Now, hearing them from someone else, he couldn't deny it any longer. He deflated, slumping into himself. "Yeah. I think I am."

Shuuji let out a long sigh. "Fine. I'll go ahead and accept that Haru is a perfect angel who will do anything for you, up to and including sacrificing his gay virginity to your lusty hormones." Makoto's cheeks started that telltale burning, and he knew his face was turning pink. "If that's true, then I still don't see why you can't just get together. I can't read him really well, but I've always thought he liked you as more than a usual friend, and I can't be completely wrong."

"You're not," Makoto agreed quietly. "Haru loves me. It's just not the same kind of love."

"You could probably tell him how you feel. I don't think it'd go badly."

"It wouldn't."

"So, why don't you?"

"Haru would be very understanding. But he'd feel bad about not returning my feelings. There's no point to both of us being bothered by this."

"How do you know for sure that he doesn't feel the same way?"

"I've known him all my life, Shuuji."

"Has he ever been in love?"

"Well... no. Not that I know of." Not with a person, anyway. Makoto still wasn't one hundred percent sure whether Haru had just been teasing everyone when he'd 'confessed' to a waterfall being his first love.

"So, you can't know what he looks like when he is."

"Trust me. I would know. I just need to get over this, and then... then things can go back to normal."

Shuuji gave him a dubious look, but the doorbell rang and he had to drop the subject.

It was Haru, of course. Makoto opened the door for him, self-consciously aware of his lingering blush. "Hi, Haru!" He wondered if his greeting had been more high-pitched than usual, or stiffer, or if he might have said something entirely different a month ago. Haru gave no indication anything was out of the ordinary. "Shuuji's already here." Said boy raised a hand in greeting. In reply, Haru lifted the bag in his hand.

"I got extra green onion for you."

"Thanks, Haru." Shuuji, for his part, was definitely acting suspicious, his gaze much too sharp for expressing gratitude over garnish. Under cover of taking the food to the coffee table and starting to distribute the boxes, Makoto shot him a warning look.

Haru didn't pause as he toed off his shoes and straightened them alongside the wall. "Are you sleeping together again?" he asked in a perfectly casual tone.

"What?!" Makoto felt his face reddening further.

Shuuji, unhelpfully, asked in a tone dripping with salacious satisfaction, "Why? Is it a problem if we are?"

"Shuuji!" Makoto admonished. "No, Haru, we're not sleeping together. Why would you even ask that?"

Haru frowned, as if cogitating closely over the question. "I was just wondering."

Makoto knew his friend better than that. Haru didn't just 'wonder'. Perhaps unconsciously, he'd picked up on the tension in the room. He knew he had entered in the middle of something, and he'd struck on a conclusion that was uncannily close to the truth and at the same time laughably wrong.

"I think Haru is jealous," Shuuji teased. He gave Haru a knowing smirk, which Haru returned with a stone-faced glare.

"Did he first apologize for dumping you last time?" he asked Makoto, though his eyes didn't leave Shuuji.

Makoto groaned. "He didn't dump me, Haru. I already explained that. And once again, we aren't dating, or sleeping together. I don't know why this even came up."

"It's fine if you want to." Haru went to the kitchen area and opened the utensils drawer, taking out chopsticks for them. He didn't like to use the disposable ones and so never got them when he bought the food. "I know he was nice to you when you had sex before. But you should be careful, because he seems to be very casual about his relationships, unlike you." He handed a pair of chopsticks to Shuuji. "If you start dating," he said, his gaze focusing intensely on the fidgeting boy, "you can't tell him you love him until you mean it."

"Huh? Of course! I mean, no, we're not dating, so-- What?" He looked to Makoto for help.

"Haru..." Makoto nudged his friend gently, until Haru turned his gaze to him. He took a pair of chopsticks for himself and smiled at his friend. "That's not relevant, because Shuuji and I are just friends. You haven't missed anything, okay? Everything's fine."

Haru still scowled slightly, but his instincts seemed to be at least partially soothed by Makoto's assertion. "Thanks for the food," he intoned briefly, before starting in on his mackerel lunchbox.

"Thanks for the food," Makoto echoed.

Shuuji tapped the ends of his chopsticks on the table, his gaze bouncing between them in confusion. Makoto shot him a look that said, _You see how he is?_

***

To be honest, being in love with his best friend didn't feel as foreign as Makoto would have thought. It was pretty much like how he'd felt before -- just enhanced. It was almost funny how easy it was to hide his new, frightening feelings behind his old, familiar ones. He'd always assumed he'd grow old with Haru beside him, and he found that despite this one inconvenient hiccup, he still imagined the two of them together that way. It gave him hope that, just as his love had slid into romance over the course of one day, it could fade back out again just as easily, if not as quickly.

With the competition season heating up, he and Haru spent much more time apart than together, anyway. And then, while Haru trained and traveled the world, Makoto went home to Iwatobi and worked at a Lawson convenience store and helped out Coach Sasabe at the ITSCR over most of summer break.

He spent many an afternoon at the pool or in the air-conditioned mall, hanging out with Nagisa, who had gotten a job at a fast food restaurant and took entirely too much advantage of his employee's discount. Rei, unfortunately, was taking a summer course, and Gou had a work-study program, though it was apparent from her excited emails that she was keeping track of her brother. Rin was where Haru was, just as Makoto had predicted, the two of them battling for their places in an ocean of competitors. Together with the rest of Iwatobi, Makoto and Nagisa waited for too-short glimpses of their friends on television clips and online.

Haru won gold at Nationals in the 200-meter and 100-meter men's freestyle races, as well as bronze in the 800-meter. Both he and Rin had also qualified comfortably for entry in several events at the International Swim Meet held in Europe. In addition, Haru would be competing in the Pan-Asia Games during the off-season, luckily hosted this year by their very own Tokyo. After a slow start last year, this was a great showing for Haru on the national and world stage.

Midway through summer, Rin sent everyone a photo of himself and Haru in Berlin, holding frankfurters. He took home one gold and one silver medal in butterfly, plus a bronze in freestyle. Haru placed fourth behind Rin in their race together but won one silver in his other individual events. He was the fastest male freestyle swimmer from Japan at the meet. Along with Okada Hikaru, who had snagged one gold and another bronze for the women's team, the newspapers whispered the words 'Olympic hopefuls'.

Medals or no medals, Makoto couldn't be prouder of his friend. Feeling only slightly silly, he waited at Narita Airport to welcome him home. He knew that he would have done this a year ago or a decade ago, too. Admiring and cheering for Haru was something he'd never stop doing.

The way that Haru's face relaxed into a relieved smile upon seeing Makoto was every bit worth the commute and the crowds. Haru's shining eyes when they got back to Haru's apartment -- and the neatly stacked pyramid of canned mackerel on the kitchen counter there -- filled Makoto's heart with joy.

This was all he needed, Makoto reflected. Haru, happy and doing what he loved, his extraordinary talent being recognized by other people -- this was what Makoto had wanted for his friend all along. This was why he'd pushed Haru to enter the world of competitive swimming, despite knowing he could never join him there. This was everything that he wanted. Really.

***

Since coming back to Japan, Haru had been acting out of sorts. Makoto had thought at first that it was from disappointment and frustration at losing to Rin. However, when Haru's mood continued for two weeks -- long past anything that could be accounted for by simply losing a race -- Makoto began to worry. He didn't press Haru, knowing how it took Haru time to sort out his own feelings, but he tried to keep their conversations light and brief, open to being interrupted at any moment.

Finally, his patience paid off as Haru mumbled into his ramen one day, "Hikaru asked me out."

A sudden stab of panic and jealousy filled Makoto's head with a buzzing sensation. Despite his own infatuation with his best friend, he hadn't quite made the leap to imagining other people sharing the feeling and then doing something about it. Haru was so untouchable to even him, the person arguably closest to Haru, that it seemed impossible that anyone else might have dared to approach--

But Makoto was being ridiculous. Why _wouldn't_ anyone else be attracted to Haru?

Ashamed at his own pettiness, Makoto admonished himself firmly and concentrated instead on the concern (and relief) he felt at Haru's morose tone. As jealous as he might be, he knew Haru well enough to guess how that encounter with Hikaru might have gone. He considered how to answer in a way that was both supportive and not too prying. When Haru felt hurt or confused, he tended to become particularly prickly about being pushed to express himself.

"That must have been a surprise."

As he'd hoped, Haru answered the implied question. "It was in Berlin. After her event. I told her congratulations. She asked if I'd like to go on a date. I wasn't prepared for that. I said no and left her. We haven't talked since."

"Oh..." Makoto couldn't help but put himself in Hikaru's place. He was suddenly glad for how unobservant Haru sometimes was. Was this what Haru would have done if he'd suspected Makoto?

"I hurt her, didn't I?"

Makoto winced as he considered Hikaru's perspective, fresh from an international victory and full of confidence, only to be turned down flat and abandoned. "Yes, probably. But you didn't do anything wrong. We can't help how we feel, and it would have been worse to lie to her."

That didn't seem to lift Haru's mood. His next words were a surprise. "I thought she was my friend."

"Isn't she?"

"I don't know anymore."

"What makes you think she isn't your friend?" Makoto asked, suddenly alert. Haru's stoic appearance gave the illusion of imperviousness, making him especially vulnerable to harsh attacks by people who didn't know better. Hikaru had never seemed like an unkind person, but in the heat of embarrassment, some people became vindictive. Normally, Makoto hated confrontation and conflict, but the thought of anyone possibly mistreating his best friend made his blood boil. Any sympathy he'd felt for the girl flew away in an instant. "What happened? Did she say or do something hurtful? That was very wrong of her."

Haru's look of confusion punctured Makoto's nascent vengeful fantasies. "No." He didn't explain further. Makoto mulled it over until he thought he'd arrived at Haru's thought process.

"She can be your friend and want you to be her boyfriend at the same time." That seemed to be the correct path to take, because Haru didn't contradict him. "Sometimes friends become attracted to each other over time." Haru, of course was unaware of the incredible irony of Makoto explaining this to him. "I think that's usually how it works anyway. You want to date someone you're close to."

He responded to Haru's questioning look, knowing what Haru was asking. "I know, Tatsuo and I weren't friends. That's probably why we broke up, right? Maybe it would have worked out if we'd gotten to know each other first instead of..." He trailed off awkwardly, and Haru didn't question it. Not directly, anyway.

"Do you think she wants to have sex with me?"

Makoto laughed, embarrassed. "I couldn't tell you, but Haru, you know it's not just about that."

He could see Haru working through his thoughts. He seemed to be at a degree of confusion where normally he would have asked Makoto a question already -- but both of them were shying away from the topic of their second fight. Maybe it was time to talk about it plainly. They'd both had enough distance from it by now.

"Haru, dating isn't just about sex. It's being intimate in other ways, too. When I was with Tatsuo," -- Haru scowled, but he was listening -- "we spent a lot of time just sitting on the couch together, cuddling and touching. We'd cook together or read or talk about the future. We'd text each other just to check up on each other and share our lives. Little things like that."

"We do those things," Haru said quickly, not quite cutting him off but coming close. He hesitated, then grudgingly conceded, "Not the couch part. But isn't that..." He shot Makoto a quick, guilty look.

"You can say it."

"Isn't that just part of the sex? Sort of the beginning of it?"

"Not always. Hm, it's like when Nagisa hugs you. Oh! Or like when Ran and Ren sit on our laps. There's nothing sexual about that, right? They just like to be close to us."

"But they're kids." Makoto, noting that Haru hadn't specified whether or not he was including Nagisa in that description, put his head down for a silent chuckle. Haru, evidently realizing the cause, smiled and clarified, "They're all younger. We have to look after them and spoil them a bit, don't we?"

"I suppose it's similar. When you're with someone, you just want them to feel good, and you want to feel their warmth and just... fill your senses with them, I guess."

Haru tilted his head in thought. "I want you to feel good. I like the way you feel and smell, mostly." Heat exploded over Makoto's face. "But I don't want to hang all over you. Is that what makes the difference?"

That was something Makoto would dearly like to know, himself. He sighed. "I don't know, Haru. I only had a boyfriend for three months before he dumped me. I'm probably not the right person to explain all this."

"You were a great boyfriend," Haru insisted loyally.

"You don't know that." Nevertheless, Makoto felt a nervous, hurt part of himself bolstered a bit.

Haru pointedly looked away, not deeming that worthy of an answer. Hesitantly, he asked, "Do you think I should try dating?"

It amazed even himself how calmly Makoto was able to say, "You like Hikaru-san, right? Do you ever feel you'd like to get closer to her?"

In the infinite eternity while Haru stared into his ramen bowl, considering, Makoto probably had five mini heart attacks. Finally, Haru said, "No."

Makoto let out an explosive breath. Haru gave him a startled look, and he had to cough and take a long gulp of water, pretending that he'd simply been temporarily overwhelmed by his spicy ramen. Seeming to accept that, Haru returned his gaze to his bowl.

"I don't think it'd be fair to Hikaru if I dated her just to try it. I don't actually want a girlfriend. I know it's great for people who like it, but it's just not worth it to me. I don't want to feel pressured to spend time and money and energy on someone, having to dress up, going to places I don't like. I don't want to feel like someone 'needs' me, like I have to do things for them, or have to have sex with them, or touch them all the time just because that's 'normal'. I don't want any of that." He stirred his ramen and lifted his chopsticks, his slightly unfocused gaze fixed on the drips of soup sliding down. "I just wish I knew what people were talking about. That's all. It's irritating, not knowing, and everyone assuming that you do, or that you want to."

"I understand." Makoto bit his lip, wanting... he wasn't sure what. Wanting to make that lost expression go away and replace it with Haru's usual self-confident indifference.

***

Makoto didn't have a particular type, which was why Shuuji occasionally teased him about being an indiscriminate heartbreaker and a sex maniac.

Of course, sharp cheekbones, well-styled hair, and pouty lips were as liable to catch his eye -- and other parts of him -- as anyone else, but what Makoto tended to really fall for was a certain air of genuineness and comfort. He couldn't explain it, exactly, but he knew it when he saw it.

He hadn't seen it yet tonight, but there was time.

Shuuji had started dragging him out with the group on weekends, his own preferred method for soothing any troubles in his life. Makoto thought it was as good an idea as any. If he were serious about getting over Haru, he'd have to act on it. Dancing was fun, no matter how the evening ended, and he liked spending time with his friends. He would miss Shuuji when he graduated at the end of next year... but that was too far away to consider right now, while he was trying to forget his worries.

"I'm getting a drink," he said to Kazu next to him, and headed for the bar.

While he got some ribbing by his friends for the one-drink rule that Haru -- variously called his boyfriend, his mom, his bodyguard -- had set on him, it had become a habit and a pleasant reminder that Haru cared about his well-being. Makoto, after his brief flirtation with saké, wasn't much inclined to break the rule anyway. He ordered a mint-and-lime iced tea and stretched his neck and shoulders while he sipped it. The thrumming of the music felt good, and the whirls of colors and bodies energized him. Not seeing a server close by, he leaned over the bar to put his empty glass with a group of others, then turned to head back to the dance floor--

\--too quickly, as it happened, because he smacked right into someone coming the other way.

Makoto opened his mouth to apologize, then froze.

Black hair. Slim build. Half a head shorter than Makoto. He couldn't tell the color of his eyes, but they were light. The other person shook his hair out of his eyes and looked up at him with a blank, startled expression.

"I'm Makoto. What's your name?" he said, instead of 'Excuse me', like he had planned.

After a brief second of confusion, the other man smiled. "Hello, Makoto. I'm Dai." Makoto hid a wince. _Dai_ , meaning 'large' or 'great'... and also a homonym for 'substitute'. He almost made an excuse to leave this conversation that he had started, when 'Dai' winked at him. "I live up to my name."

This time, Makoto's wince wasn't hidden in time.

Dai laughed in a self-conscious manner. "Too corny?"

That moment of awkwardness broke the spell of indecision. Makoto smiled in relief and honest amusement. He couldn't imagine Haru saying something like that. "It's fine. Points for trying."

"Your way of getting my attention wasn't the smoothest, either," he returned with a smirk.

"It really was an accident." Makoto forged ahead past his chagrin. "But I'm glad it happened. Want to dance?"

"Sure."

Dai reacted well when Makoto turned out to be with a group. He was a reasonably good dancer, and he didn't take himself too seriously. After a few songs, he began to cast meaningful glances, and when Makoto moved in to dance against him, his touches were just the right amount of intimate and lingering to whet Makoto's interest without tipping into an uncomfortable level of public indecency.

The longer they teased each other, the more Makoto felt it, that vibe that thrilled him and drew him in and made his body spark with attention. He could tell they were on the same wavelength. Every touch and whisper of breath from the other man stoked the fire a little bit higher. From his appreciative looks and the soft groans he uttered in Makoto's ear, the other man was feeling it as well.

Dai's eyes turned out to be sky-blue. His shorter stature and ready smile had masked the fact that he was in at least his early thirties. He swore when they separated from a mind-melting kiss outside, under the streetlights. "You're in college, right? Not high school?" he asked, and when Makoto nodded, too flustered to be coherent, he grunted in relief and hailed them a taxi.

Makoto prepared to explain how he didn't like making out in taxis, but Dai didn't do anything more than stroke Makoto's thigh while staring at him with a heavy-lidded expression. Makoto shivered, his gut clenching pleasurably. By the time they'd reached their destination, he could hardly stand the wait.

Dai let Makoto into his twelfth-floor apartment with what seemed like practiced ease, and immediately, they were kissing again in the single spotlight of the foyer. The syncopation of their give-and-take was perfect. Dai's lips and tongue sought out Makoto's sensitive spots unerringly, and he made the most satisfying and titillating sounds when Makoto returned the favor. Dai's scent and taste drove Makoto crazy. The feel of sweat in Dai's short, soft hair, and his grunt when Makoto tugged, made him wild to see and feel the rest of him.

With a deep groan, Makoto surged forward and pinned his lover against the door, pressing their fronts together, the heat even through their clothes dizzying. He came to his senses when he felt Dai freeze. Before Makoto could apologize, however, he was flipped over and shoved flat against the wall himself, the force nearly putting him on his toes. Dai grinned up at him, their height difference accentuated by the position.

"You can hold me down when we get in bed," he told Makoto, his voice slightly hoarse, making Makoto want to whimper. "I pay too high a rent on this place for us to do it here."

Kicking off his sneakers while Dai untied his, Makoto let Dai lead him down the short hallway to said bedroom and an enticingly large bed. With almost no transition, they continued their exploration of each other's mouths and bodies. "Clothes off," Dai growled, and Makoto couldn't agree more.

Without discussing it, they broke apart and undressed themselves. Makoto moved quickly. There were few things more awkward than making a lover wait while caught with one foot still in his underwear, in his opinion. He was in time to help Dai out of his torturously tight jeans. He'd done something similar enough times to know the trick of where to pull without getting in Dai's way. Apparently, he had a thing for men in tight pants.

An image of Haru in his jammers suddenly intruded into Makoto's brain, causing him to gasp.

"You like what you see?" Dai asked him, mistaking the noise.

Recovering quickly, Makoto put on an admiring face. As it turned out, he didn't even have to fake it. "You were right. You do live up to your name."

Dai glanced down. "You've nothing to worry about either."

Having heard similar things before, Makoto merely laughed and yanked Dai to him, tumbling them both into bed.

Dai knelt over Makoto's naked body, and he uttered a pleased grunt as his eyes roved. "Those layers were hiding a lot. Do you play sports?"

"Swimming."

"Yeah? I can tell."

Dai wasn't particularly fit, nothing like a professional swimmer's body, but he wasn't unfit either. He was comfortably average, with some freckles over his skin and a few faint scars such as life gave to a person. A dark thatch of hair surrounded his cock, different from Haru's neatly trimmed hair.

Startled again, Makoto reminded himself firmly that the comparison was both unnecessary and distracting.

Dai licked his lips. "I'm going to eat you up, Makoto. I hope you don't mind."

Makoto shivered and met those sky-blue eyes with his own. "Go ahead -- if you can handle all of me without getting a stomachache."

Dai grimaced and snorted all at once. "That was terrible. Leave the corny jokes to me. Please."

Makoto closed his mouth exaggeratedly, then tilted his head, giving Dai an expectant stare -- a challenge. He loved this part, this thrill when they both acknowledged that they were teetering just on the edge of something.

That moment of connection always made something in Makoto's heart jolt. It was magical, how sex could allow two strangers to act like old friends. People were naked in more ways than one when together like this. They were pure and wild and affectionate, and Makoto loved it -- loved seeing others that way, loved being that way himself. In a bedroom, stripped down in the half-light, he could be anything and anyone. He could be bold and aggressive, or shy and seductive. He could be kind or cruel, generous or playful, and his partner might like it either way.

Sex was an adventure. It was a game. It was a conversation that Makoto never got tired of.

Dai huffed in a disarmingly familiar way, but he was smiling while he did it, so after that first fraction of a second, Makoto didn't spare it any more thought. Anyway, there were hands on him now, and bare skin for him to run his hands over in turn. Dai filled his vision fully, his eyes pulled up at the corners in a smile. "Let's see if we can find better things for your mouth to do."

Salivating at the thought, Makoto was eager to prove his lover right. He rolled them over to hold the smaller man down, as promised. Their lips crashed together, at first violent and overeager, then with more finesse. Electricity seemed to snap between them.

Haru didn't like kissing, Makoto suddenly remembered. Haru would never touch him like this, would never say these things to him, would never--

He growled and cupped Dai's ass with renewed fervor, blanking out his mind from everything except the here and now. Dai groaned, grinding against him. He moved to kiss and suck on the soft skin at Makoto's throat and slid his hands down Makoto's back, thumbs digging into the little dips just above his hips. Makoto stroked his chest and thighs and massaged buttocks that tensed and relaxed under his fingers. Dai grunted his approval and ran his fingers through Makoto's hair. His spread thighs squeezed Makoto's sides.

Makoto took Dai's full and heavy cock in hand and began stroking along to the other man's thrusts. He reveled in the sensation of the hard flesh sliding through his sensitive palm and fingers. He loved that he was the cause of this, that he could get someone to bare themselves so completely for him, and that he could do the same in return.

Dai's breath stuttered against Makoto's lips. "Yeah," he groaned, bucking up into Makoto's hand.

Haru had gotten aroused from just Makoto's hands. He'd gripped Makoto's thighs and made those sweet, under-his-breath noises. He'd thrust into Makoto's mouth, his usual perfect control broken by what Makoto was doing to him. Makoto had been his first, would perhaps be his only. No one else had ever caused Haru to fall apart that way. Makoto was the only person in the world who had ever watched as Haru, ghostly silent, stroked himself to orgasm, then fell, gasping, into Makoto's arms.

Luckily, Makoto's whimpers caused Dai to make an appreciative sound. A moment later, he felt Dai part his cheeks and stroke his hole. He whined at the sensation and what it portended.

"Are you okay to bottom?"

The question set Makoto's insides on fire. He'd been expecting Dai to ask him to top. Being so tall meant that was usually what his partners first expected when they hooked up with him. He was normally happy to oblige, but Makoto enjoyed bottoming equally as much, and he was eager for it now. Breathlessly, he nodded.

Rolling to one knee, Dai pulled open the drawer in his nightstand and took out a bottle of lube. A condom followed. After covering himself, he scooted down to rub his cock against Makoto's opening, teasing them both. Makoto closed his eyes, matching the shallow thrusts, enjoying his own frustration at the barely-there promise of what was to come.

A while later, Makoto heard the telltale pop of a snap lid, and he gripped Dai's back hard. Dai's fingers were thick and heavy, not the thin artist's hands Makoto couldn't seem to banish from his mind, but he was skillful in teasing Makoto open and finding that spot that shot fireworks behind Makoto's eyes.

"Yes..." Makoto planted one foot on the bed so he could ride that perfectly crooked finger. He heard Dai chuckle, mixed with a swear word or two.

"I want to fuck you so bad."

"Could you do it from behind?" Makoto looked straight into Dai's face, appreciating the whorl of hair where it parted at the side, the flush across his tanned face, the tiny beads of sweat on his thin lips. "Your arms look strong. I want to feel you holding me down."

In answer, Dai groaned and squinted his eyes. "You know how to tickle a guy's self-esteem, don't you?"

"I hope that's not the only thing that gets tickled."

"Ugh, I told you to leave the bad jokes to me." Growling exaggeratedly, Dai flipped Makoto to his stomach and fumbled for the lube.

Makoto panted, waiting, until Dai's hands returned to his hips. He was pulled up onto his knees, and then a pressure pushed against him. Makoto cried out as it went in, stretching him out to bursting. How long had it been since he'd felt this?

"O-Oh. Yeah, more. Deeper. Dai!" Haru would never want to do this, Makoto reminded himself. It was unsanitary and messy, and it probably didn't even feel good for him. As if in punishment for his mental wanderings, Dai spread his knees out wider with his own and thrust hard. "Ahh!" Their balls slapped together with a lewd, meaty sound.

"You're so tight. Can you take it?" In spite of his solicitous words, Dai held Makoto's wrists down and bit the back of his neck, making Makoto feel even more deliciously out of control. His chest against Makoto's back was slick with sweat. Makoto rocked, feeling the aroused points of Dai's nipples slide against his oversensitive skin. Dai began to thrust heavily inside him, and both of them groaned.

"Fuck me," Makoto encouraged. "Harder, Dai. Come on." Right now, this was everything that he wanted. A thick cock filling him, a man's hard body holding him fast, hot breath in his ear -- connected and exposed in all the right ways.

Wordlessly, Dai obliged.

After they finished, Makoto allowed himself to drift peacefully in the afterglow. Dai's bed smelled of detergent and cologne. His body smelled of sweat and sex. It was only reluctantly that he pushed himself up and began to get dressed.

Dai opened his eyes with seeming effort. "You can stay the night if you want, as long as you can leave by seven-thirty."

Makoto appreciated the offer. "Thanks, but I think I'll go. I'll let myself out."

"Mm, thanks. Good night, Makoto. I had a great time." He raised himself up for a lingering kiss goodbye.

He didn't ask for Makoto's number, for which Makoto was glad.

On the way home, Makoto thought it over rationally. Sex was important to him. As ashamed as he was to admit it, he couldn't have a relationship without it. Sharing his body and learning someone else's was something he couldn't give up. He had to have a boyfriend who wanted him back, not just somebody who might tolerate having sex with him once out of curiosity. He wanted a boyfriend -- a full partner -- who craved his presence, who needed him, who wanted Makoto bound to him and vice versa, someone who would feel the opposite of 'free' while with Makoto and liked it best that way.

And that was why, even if Haru might one day agree to be with him, it would never work out.

As bad as it was to know that Haru would never love him back, it would be far worse to grow to resent or even hate his best friend, or for Haru to come to resent him. He would get over this infatuation eventually. He would never get over having thrown away Haru's friendship over his own selfishness.

He had to give up on this ridiculous crush. He loved being Haru's best friend. That had always been enough until now. It would have to continue to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a happy ending, I swear.


	9. Part IV: Hikaru, Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"I feel like I'm living in a gay soap opera."_

Makoto consciously didn't meddle in Haru's affairs. He knew that he worried enough about his friend to nearly qualify as meddling already, since Haru would pick up on his worry and feel pressured by it. So, Makoto tried to minimize any direct interference.

It was complete coincidence that brought him to the same shopping plaza as a certain blue-haired swimmer and three of her friends, and yet it was admittedly not coincidence at all when Makoto called out to her.

"Hikaru-san!" 

The tall, trim young woman with wide shoulders looked around at her name, and her group paused with her while she hesitated in her reply. "Do you know him?" a freckled brunette asked her, frowning with suspicion as Makoto approached.

"Yes..." Hikaru answered reluctantly. She bowed slightly with her head and upper back. "Hello, Makoto-kun."

He greeted her in the same manner. They'd met several times since starting college, always through Haru. The last time he'd seen her in person had been at Haru's early birthday get-together a couple of months ago before the competition season had heated up. He was glad Hikaru felt comfortable remaining on a first-name basis with him, recent awkwardness notwithstanding. "Congratulations on medaling at the Internationals."

"Thank you." Seemingly caught off guard, she smiled perfunctorily, the way that people do when complimented by a stranger. She immediately followed with, "We were just going to lunch, so..." She half-turned away to indicate her intentions.

"Could we talk a bit, please?"

"Oh, wait, you're Nanase's friend," the brunette realized out loud, a tone of dissatisfaction in her voice.

Hikaru glanced at her friend. "Why don't you all go ahead. I'll meet you at the food court," she told her and the others. After some further urging, her friends left her. Hikaru crossed her arms. "Well?" Out of her friends' sight, her demeanor became harder, more challenging.

Makoto hadn't had a clear plan when he'd called out to her. He only knew that he wished he could fix things. Haru hadn't spoken directly about her again, but from what Makoto could glean, he knew that he and Hikaru hadn't made up. "Haru feels bad about..." He trailed off, wanting to be delicate.

Hikaru straightened. "He can tell me himself, then." She snorted derisively. "I thought he was different, but I suppose he's just another arrogant, cowardly boy."

Makoto was taken aback by this gross mischaracterization of his friend. "That's not it at all. He's just confused. He has trouble understanding people."

"We're all human. Nobody has mind-reading powers," she replied hotly. "But I don't go around hurting people when I'm upset or uncomfortable."

"He didn't hurt you on purpose. He was just telling you the truth, and he can't help how he feels."

Hikaru's expression crumpled slightly. "No, but now he acts like I don't even exist." She recovered quickly, though her anger now seemed somewhat fragile. "Jun takes his side. I suppose his best friend will, too."

Makoto was weak against an upset face, a fact that the twins thankfully didn't take advantage of _too_ often. Though he tried to defend his friend, he couldn't help but feel empathy for the girl in front of him. "I... don't know what happened, exactly, but I know how Haru can be when he's not sure of himself. Maybe he just needs some time to think things over. I can promise he doesn't have bad intentions, but I guess it must feel awful for you. I'm sorry he's behaving that way."

Hikaru glared at him for a long moment more. Then she seemed to thaw, still frowning but less belligerent. "Haru-kun said once that I reminded him of you. I think he meant it as a compliment."

Makoto stammered for something polite to say. "Ah. Probably? Er." He forged on. "I know I can't really apologize on Haru's behalf, but he isn't arrogant or dismissive of you or anything, I promise. He's been quite upset, actually. He doesn't make friends easily. You're important to him."

"You wouldn't be able to tell, lately." She sighed. "You know, it wasn't even my idea to ask him out. It's just... I guess I was talking about him a lot to my friends, and then they told me I must like him and I had to ask him out. I gave it a try. I'm sorry I did. I've messed everything up."

"No, you were... brave to try." Inwardly, Makoto winced, conscious again of the irony.

"'Brave'. Well, who knows. It was still a mistake."

"Do you think so?"

She shrugged. "To be honest, I'd rather have Haru-kun as a friend and a teammate. I've always loved swimming, but he takes it to another level. Just watching him makes me want to try harder." She glanced away, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "I'm not making sense. You're probably so used to him, you don't even notice."

"Believe me, I know. The number of people who have been chasing after him over the years after seeing him swim..." Even before Haru's speed had gotten him scouted, there'd always been that aura of power and grace and peace around him. Makoto had seen many a stranger -- even non-swimmers -- stop dead and stare at his friend in the water. 

To his surprise, Hikaru laughed. A small, brief sound, but one of actual amusement. "I guess I'm not alone, then?"

"No. Not even a bit."

"Is it hard, being his friend? Do you feel like you're in his shadow?"

Shuuji had asked him something similar, once. Makoto answered the same way now. "No. I always feel comfortable with Haru."

Hikaru reacted with the same mix of admiration and wistfulness. "That sounds nice." She looked toward the escalators. "I should go. My friends are waiting."

"Yes, of course! Thank you for talking, Hikaru-san. About Haru... I hope you don't think too badly of him."

"I'll try. Thanks for talking, Makoto-kun. See you next time."

They said their goodbyes and went their separate ways.

Despite having hopefully cleared the air a bit with Haru's friend, Makoto felt uneasy for an entirely selfish reason. If Hikaru's version of the situation could be trusted, this didn't bode well at all for Makoto's own predicament.

It should be comforting to recall that even when Makoto had been overcome with attraction for Haru, Haru had refused to separate from him for fear of damaging their friendship. Would it be the same if he knew about Makoto's feelings, though? To Haru, emotional dilemmas were much more serious and threatening than any physical reaction. Would he panic and shut Makoto out the way he had with Hikaru? Makoto thought he wouldn't... but he couldn't be sure.

Groaning, Makoto clapped his cheeks lightly with both hands. He was making things too complicated. All he had to do was to get over his silly crush, and then everything would be all right again.

***

"I saw Hikaru-san yesterday," Makoto informed Haru the next day.

Haru startled slightly, but he didn't avoid Makoto's gaze or look irritated or impatient with the topic, as he might if he didn't want to talk about it.

"She said you've been avoiding her." He could see from Haru's expression that he understood what Makoto wasn't saying -- that Makoto was wondering if it were true, that Hikaru was upset by what she was perceiving, that Makoto didn't blame Haru either way but wanted to let him know.

Haru dropped his gaze. He frowned slightly. After a minute of concentrated thought, he said, "I didn't think she'd want to be my friend anymore. I'll talk to her."

Makoto should have known that it was all a misunderstanding. Haru cherished his friendships too much to give one up over a little discomfort. "You're a good friend, Haru."

As usual, Haru threw him a partially confused, partially indulgent look, but didn't answer.

That was enough for Makoto.

***

"Hikaru and I made up." The train clattered around them, almost, but not quite covering Haru's voice.

Makoto removed his idle gaze from the dark windows of the opposite door, turning to look at his friend. "That's wonderful, Haru! I'm so glad."

"We're swimming in the same pool again," Haru said, with a sense of satisfaction.

As sometimes happened even to Makoto when Haru talked about water, Makoto found himself puzzling over what Haru was saying. "That's... good," he finally said.

Haru scowled. "She still won't eat mackerel, though."

 _That_ statement was easy to understand for anyone who knew Haru even marginally well. Makoto chuckled. "That's too bad."

Haru looked away, his version of a shrug.

Makoto smiled to himself, imagining all the ways that conversation might have happened. He was proud of Haru for having made friends, and he hoped they appreciated Haru's quirks as much as his Iwatobi and Samezuka friends did.

"She asked if I was gay."

Makoto's musings skipped a track, mid-play. How had Hikaru and Haru gotten onto that topic? "O-Oh? What did you say?"

Haru gave him an odd look, a mixture of surprised and disappointed, perhaps that Makoto had had to ask. "I told her I wasn't. That I was asexual."

"Wha--!" Mid-exclamation, Makoto choked violently on air, prompting Haru to startle and then to pat him hastily on the back. Makoto turned toward the door, aware of the occupants of the train car watching them curiously. "You-- You told her that? Just like that?"

In the reflection of the glass, Makoto could see that Haru was staring at him incredulously. Confusion deepened on his face at Makoto's question. "Why wouldn't I?" Now that he'd gotten over his surprise, Makoto didn't doubt for a moment that Haru had answered Hikaru with little thought. He could even imagine Haru's carelessly stone-faced delivery.

"Are you-- Did she take it well?"

Haru's face fell back into its usual placid calm. "It's okay, Makoto. She wasn't mad or disgusted or anything. I think it made her feel better, actually."

"Was Jun there?"

"Yes."

"How did he react?"

"He was surprised. But later he was fine with it."

Makoto wondered what Haru had left out from the middle. The loquacious and high-strung butterfly swimmer couldn't possibly have arrived at such an easy conclusion without a lengthy detour. He was glad, however, that whatever journey it had taken Jun to get there, it had ended well. "Were other people around? Did they hear?"

"Maybe. I don't know." Haru was getting that irritated, bored look that told Makoto he didn't understand what Makoto was so worked up about.

One of the things that Makoto most admired about Haru was his down-to-the-bone sense of self. He seemed honestly mystified by the suggestion that he might want to be anything other than what he was. Yet, that trait of his best friend sometimes made him oblivious to the social dynamics around him. He was, yes, a little self-centered. It was hard for him to understand why anyone would ever choose to be mean-spirited or jealous or judgmental, because he wasn't those things himself. Strangers often misinterpreted Haru's cool attitude as disdain, and some took exception to it. 

Haru wasn't weak. He didn't react to bullies, and he knew how to handle himself in a fight. But he was so _innocent_ sometimes. While Makoto was there, he could smooth the way, but their lives ran in different tracks now, and Makoto couldn't always interpret or run interference for him anymore.

A sudden, irrational anger made Makoto scold him, "You should pay attention to these things, Haru! What if you got hurt? It'll affect your swimming, your grades, everything. We're not kids anymore. You have to be more careful."

Haru, observant when he wanted to be, was watching Makoto with unblinking eyes. "No one's said anything. I'll ask Jun tomorrow if he's noticed anything."

"Okay." Makoto kept his eyes down, ashamed at his outburst and further chastened by Haru's calm, sensible solution. "You can take care of yourself. I know that, Haru. I was just worried. Sometimes, people are mean when they don't understand."

"Are people mean to you?" When Makoto didn't reply right away, Haru asked, "Is it like when Rin was mean to you?"

"Rin's our friend, Haru. He wasn't mean. He was just surprised."

"So, people say worse things to you? Do they hurt you?"

"No. That's not what I meant. Haru, it's okay. I was just worried about you, but if everything's fine, then it's okay."

"It's not. What do people say?"

He knew Haru wasn't going to let it go. Makoto bit his lip, considering how to answer.

It seemed like cheating to let Haru think he was somehow being abused for his sexuality. Makoto was perfectly fine. He'd never advertised that he was anything but straight and too focused on his studies to date. In his normal life, Makoto could avoid lying with a blush and a laugh, leaning on his reputation for being shy. Being more or less average-looking, friendly, and athletic protected him from being a target for the most part, and while going out at night had brought some attention from rowdy strangers on him and his group of friends, they were able to easily laugh it off while together.

Still, it was hard to miss some of the things that got bandied about at lunch tables and locker rooms, and things that were shared in angry whispers or occasionally reported in the news. Shuuji and Kazu had stories to tell that made Makoto selfishly glad he hadn't come out in high school. He wondered how much of all that Haru was aware of.

The electronic announcement came on, naming the coming stop as the train slowed.

"Nothing," Makoto finally answered amid the masking hubbub of moving passengers and hydraulic brakes. "People don't say anything to me, because they don't know." _Because I'm a coward._ "Don't worry about it, Haru."

He stepped off the train as soon as the doors opened and made his way to the exit, knowing Haru would follow. His friend fell in beside him, and they were silent amidst their own thoughts as they walked the short distance to Haru's apartment. Haru let them inside.

While removing his shoes, Makoto said, softly, "Shuuji's in love with Ichirou." He didn't think he was breaking a confidence. Shuuji's feelings had become increasingly obvious over the last year.

Indeed, Haru nodded. "I can tell."

"Ichirou's dad runs a manufactory at home. Ichirou's expected to take it over one day." Makoto should keep his troubles in perspective. Ichirou had his entire future to worry about. Makoto merely had a broken heart.

"Are you in love with someone?"

"I... can't let myself be. At least, not right now." He sighed and rested his forehead on Haru's shoulder. He recalled Haru staring pensively into a bowl of ramen. No, he couldn't tell Haru the whole truth. It would be needlessly hurtful. "Maybe I'll be ready again someday."

He felt a hand in his hair. "Makoto is Makoto. There's nothing wrong with that."

"Not everyone will see it that way. I'm still trying to get that assistant coaching job."

"After we get home, everyone will know you. It'll be better then."

"Will it?"

Haru didn't lie to him, so he chose not to answer. "You're still attracted to me, aren't you?"

He tensed -- but he wouldn't lie to Haru either. "Yes. Is it obvious?" He stood back, afraid to be so close to the object of his affections while having this conversation.

"You aren't like you were before, but something's still... different."

He avoided Haru's perceptive gaze. "You haven't stopped being attractive, Haru. I can't just tell myself to stop noticing." That sounded like he was accusing Haru of inviting unwanted attention. He grimaced self-deprecatingly and waited for Haru to incline his head slightly in acceptance of the silent apology before going on. "I'm sorry, Haru. I don't know why this is happening all of a sudden. I'm trying to make it go away. I think I just need some time."

Haru sighed. "Makoto. You don't have to solve things on your own." He crossed his arms. "Should I start wearing more clothes or something? What can I do to help?"

In fact, Haru being considerate and helpful was making the problem _worse_. "You're right. It's not like before. I'm sure if we ignore it for long enough, it'll go away on its own."

A stubborn pout formed on Haru's face. "You want to swim, but you can't."

Makoto felt his face start to heat. "It's not the same, Haru. Swimming is something you love. It's your career, even. Sex is just... It's..." Yes, Makoto liked sex. It was important to him -- as an expression of intimacy, as a release, as simply a deeply enjoyable activity. He thought he had mostly accepted his own urges, but he still couldn't help feeling slightly dirty about it in front of Haru.

"Sex is normal. Don't be ashamed. Nothing about Makoto is wrong."

Makoto blinked back his sudden emotion at Haru's insistent, matter-of-fact pronouncement. "Oh, Haru." Why did Haru have to keep being so _good_?

He knew that this attraction to his friend was unreasonable and dangerous. Haru wasn't interested in him. He might have deigned to have sex with Makoto once as a favor, but he wouldn't--

"I'm okay with having sex again. That helped last time. Would it, again?"

Makoto sucked in a breath, feeling his heart leap. "You would... again?"

"You've been having sex with other people, and it hasn't gone away." Makoto's mouth dropped open. In the back of his mind, he'd realized that Haru might have noticed his 'activities', but the bald statement was still rather mortifying. Haru gave no sign of embarrassment as he speculated, "Maybe it just has to be me. What do you think?"

"H-Haru," he chided, feeling his face heating. "You shouldn't offer your body like it's just something useful lying around. I couldn't accept that. It'd be taking advantage."

"I liked watching you come."

If Makoto had been blushing before, he must be fire engine-red now. "What are you talking about? Goodness, Haru. Don't say things like that out of the blue."

"I meant," Haru persisted, sounding slightly peeved at Makoto's denseness, "you wouldn't be taking advantage of me. I would enjoy it, too."

Makoto's mind felt very much like a stuck gear. "But you don't like sex!" he exclaimed, much too loudly for Haru's thin-walled apartment. The situation was so unreal that he didn't even feel embarrassed, despite thinking that he probably should.

Again, Haru heaved a put-upon sigh. "I don't," he explained patiently. "But I like Makoto. And I don't like seeing you hurting." His voice grew stern. "Stop worrying about me and think about yourself. Will it help or not?"

Makoto put his face in his hands, trying to make sense of everything. "I really don't know."

"Would it hurt?"

How to answer that truthfully? "Probably not."

"Then it's worth a try. But only if you want to. Do you want to?"

Makoto was much too weak to say anything other than, "Yes." He had enough presence of mind, however, to insist on asking, "Do _you_ really want to?"

"I want to see Makoto, free." By which he meant, he wanted to see Makoto--

Gasping, Makoto turned away quickly, hiding his reaction to the onslaught of vivid pictures in his head. Haru put his arms around his waist from behind.

"Don't feel bad, Makoto. It's okay. We'll fix it."

Taking several deep breaths, Makoto managed to relax incrementally into Haru's embrace. "O-Okay."

"Let me take a bath first. Then we can do it. Anyway, I've heard that making you wait makes it better."

"Haru!" Makoto laughed. He loved it when Haru teased him, even if it was sometimes embarrassing. It made him feel light and silly and proud. "You're awful."

He didn't need to see Haru's face to know that he was smiling one of those special smiles just for him.

***

Makoto was more nervous than he thought he should be, considering it was their second time.

Haru emerged from the bathroom, naked. Makoto couldn't help but stare for a few seconds, before he stammered something explanatory and escaped into the bathroom, himself, for a quick rinse.

As expected, the tub was still full, half-covered with a slatted cover. Haru had never gotten out of the habit of reusing his bath water, since he often took multiple baths each day. Briefly, Makoto imagined stepping into the tub and submerging himself, surrounding himself with the water that had held Haru's naked, wet body mere minutes earlier.

It was with a furiously blushing face that Makoto hurried out of the bathroom after using only the shower spout.

Earlier, while Haru had bathed, Makoto had moved the table aside and laid out Haru's futon. Now, Haru lay on it chest down, still carelessly nude, looking at a magazine. Makoto tilted his head to read the title from the side margin.

" _Famous Waterfalls of North America_?" Haru looked up, his eyes shining with passion. His expression made Makoto's stomach flip in a pleasant way, filling him with amusement and fondness and vicarious elation. "Can I look at it with you?" In answer, Haru moved to the edge of the futon. Makoto lay down gingerly in the space made for him, slightly self-conscious about his nakedness but determined to be as casual about it as his friend was.

Side by side, they explored the vertical aquatic wonders of Canada and America. While on an article about Olympic National Park, Makoto dared to lean over and put his lips to Haru's shoulder. "All that water," he murmured into his friend's skin. "I wish I could see Haru standing under it." Haru shivered, and Makoto congratulated himself.

"Are we starting?" Haru asked, his tone reluctant.

"You can keep looking at the magazine," Makoto told him. Maybe for Haru, it was as close to looking at pornography as it got.

Haru sighed. "No." He flipped it closed and set it away to the side. Makoto bit his lip. Haru had just given up waterfalls for him.

"I love you, Haru," he couldn't help but whisper. He didn't think it was dangerous to say so. He'd been telling Haru he loved him since he was a child. He had over a decade of innocent camouflage on his side.

Making no comment, Haru turned onto his back. "What should we do?"

Makoto moved to cover Haru's body with his own, careful to hold some of his weight off the other boy. Unexpectedly for his freedom-loving friend, Haru had seemed to like this last time. In response, Haru stretched, arching with every display of pleasure. Humming, he put his hands in Makoto's hair and stroked it lazily.

Haru's skin felt unbelievably hot against Makoto's. Every jut and curve of Haru's smaller body pressed into Makoto's. He was extremely aware of where and how Haru's body had filled out over the past year of training. His body responded predictably.

Despite that, Haru's face remained trusting and calm, completely open to Makoto. His eyelashes seemed especially long, his sharp chin especially enticing. Makoto kissed that chin, then down one side of Haru's neck to his clavicle and up the other, in an invisible necklace. He loved the taste and feel of Haru's slow, steady pulse. He loved how Haru exposed his neck for him and huffed a breath of surprise when Makoto licked the lobe of one ear. "Haru," he inquired into that perfectly formed ear, "when you touch yourself, do you just touch down there, or anywhere else?"

The question seemed to confuse Haru. "Why would I touch anything else?"

In answer, Makoto scooted down and kissed one of Haru's nipples. Haru jumped. Makoto tongued the small, innocuous nub again and looked up. "Is that good, Haru?"

"I don't know." He could almost see the thoughts cross Haru's face, the subtle quirks and shifts that Makoto had learned to read over their near lifetime of friendship. He could tell that while Haru didn't outright dislike the sensation, he wasn't sure about how he felt.

"Should I do it again?"

Haru squirmed a bit before deciding, "No."

Makoto nuzzled him in the center of his chest. "Okay." He kissed both sides of Haru's ribs and down the center of his sternum. Haru's skin was slightly damp, his muscles densely packed underneath. His distinctive light, grassy scent, mixed with chlorine, filled Makoto's mind in a heady cloud. "Do you want my mouth again?" Though he hadn't yet had cause to use it, he kept a condom in his bag.

"What else can we do?" Haru asked curiously.

Haru had said last time that he 'wasn't interested in fucking'. Makoto wondered if that might be simply due to a lack of imagination and experience, but he didn't want to push Haru. "Would you mind if I touched you below here?" He slid his hand underneath to touch the end of Haru's tailbone. "That feels good for some people."

"Does it feel good for you?"

Makoto blushed. Yes, it felt very good for him. "Yes."

"Okay."

Lightly, ever so lightly, Makoto slipped his middle finger down into that shapely and muscular valley. He kissed Haru's stomach and thighs as he did so, distracting him. When he reached the sensitive pucker, he rubbed across it. Haru shifted.

"Makoto, I don't-- I don't think I like it."

Disappointed but determined not to show it, Makoto kissed Haru's stomach again. "Okay. Is this all right?" He stroked Haru's perineum, up to the back of Haru's balls. Makoto had been with a few partners before who had played with him here, and it always felt fantastic to him, but one person he'd tried it with hadn't cared for it.

Haru let out a breath, whether of enjoyment or simply relief. "Yeah, that's okay."

Encouraged, Makoto tickled him there and then stroked more firmly, pressing deliberately against that hot spot inside. He'd learned last time that Haru was used to the direct approach when he played with himself. Haru shivered and his breaths quickened slightly. "You're sensitive here, Haru. Have you ever noticed that?"

"No." As always, Haru's answer was succinct and to the point. Unable to resist, Makoto scooted down and pushed Haru's legs apart. After only a soft grunt of surprise, Haru spread himself open for Makoto to access however he wished. The sight made Makoto throb.

Holding the back of Haru's thighs, he bent and began to lick Haru where he'd been stroking before, in slow, even stripes, alternating with quick kitten licks, and occasionally exploring up and to the sides, digging his tongue into the folds of Haru's thighs and behind his heavy balls.

Haru tasted mostly of water and sweat, and a muskier version of his personal scent. That slight difference reminded Makoto how blatantly sexual this act was, and the thought excited him enough that he was panting slightly when he blurted, quite without forethought, "You're so sexy. I can't believe it. You're like a picture from a porn magazine. I could look at you all day and never be tired of it. I want you in every way you'll let me, Haru. Oh, Haru, the way you make me feel..."

"Are you going to come soon?" Haru's voice was inquisitive and eager -- and somehow closer than Makoto would have expected.

Makoto looked up and realized that Haru was up on his elbows and staring at him with laser focus. Makoto was abruptly too aware of the fact that this was his childhood friend he was talking to and about, that the person he'd been licking in an extremely intimate place was the same one who'd lent him underwear when he'd wet the bed on a sleepover once. "Haru! Don't _look_." He sat up and covered his burning cheeks, as if that would hide anything.

Haru scowled. "I don't want to miss it."

"I'm not going to come from this," Makoto assured him somewhat desperately. "I'm just trying to make you feel good."

"Looking at you feels good."

"Haru!" His scandalized panic must have finally convinced Haru, because, though he looked somewhat long-suffering, Haru lay back down.

Without Haru watching his every move, Makoto was finally able to calm himself down. He moved to lay on his side beside Haru and buried his face in his friend's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. They'd lost their earlier mood entirely, thanks to his fit. He gasped when Haru turned away and snugged his hips back against him. Despite Makoto's embarrassment, he was still hard.

"What else can we do?" Haru asked. Just like always, he took Makoto's spasms of emotion perfectly in stride.

Their position coupled with Haru's innocent question sparked an idea in Makoto's filthy mind. He tried to dismiss it several times, but it kept coming back. "Do you have some lotion or something?"

Haru was still for a while. Then he got up and disappeared into the bathroom, returning with a bottle of conditioner. "Will this work?"

"I think so." He went to his bag, retrieving the condom. Haru's concentrated attention was like a pressure on his skin as he tore the packet open and covered himself. He coated himself with the conditioner and had to suppress a gasp. Even through the condom, he was sensitive. He could feel Haru's curious eyes on him, but he was afraid if he looked up, he'd self-combust. He squeezed more of their make-shift lubricant into his hand, remembering how well Haru had reacted to this last time.

When he snuck a quick glance at Haru's face, he saw anticipation in his friend's expressive eyes. "Like this," he said, and knelt behind Haru, pulling Haru's back to his front. He began fondling Haru's cock directly, covering it liberally with the conditioner, making it slippery and releasing a thick, herbal scent. Haru was soft, as he had expected, but he didn't take it personally. Just the fact that Haru was here, allowing Makoto to touch him like this again... that was more than Makoto should rightly ask for.

Just like their first time, Haru laid his head back against Makoto's shoulder in an achingly sweet gesture. "This is good," he observed, "but it isn't new."

"You're right," he said, hoping his voice wasn't trembling too badly. "I..." Swallowing, he shifted until his cock was pressed to the back of the join between the tops of Haru's thighs. "Could I? Just between your legs." What must Haru think of him, the boy who'd once drawn crayon pictures of flowers and animals beside him, now asking him to do these disgusting things with him?

 _Haru doesn't think I'm disgusting_ , he reminded himself firmly. Haru didn't judge other people -- unless perhaps if you hated water or mackerel. He was the most accepting friend Makoto could ask for.

It felt like eons before Haru replied, his voice no less steady than usual, "That'll feel good for you?"

"Yes."

"For a while, then."

He encouraged Haru to close his legs together. Then, hesitantly at first, Makoto thrust into the softness between. He shivered at the sensation, even as he tried desperately to hold back. The conditioner made the slide easy, but he didn't want to surprise or hurt Haru accidentally. He was careful to angle the tip of his cock to stroke along the sensitive area behind Haru's balls. He heard Haru grunt. "Is this all right?" he asked anxiously.

Haru made a brief, affirmative sound.

More boldly now, he thrust into that tight, heated space. It felt-- It felt wonderful. "Haru?"

Understanding his unvoiced worry, Haru reassured him, "It feels good. Keep going."

Makoto let himself moan as his hips moved, seemingly of their own will. He fell into a rhythm, riding a wave of instinct and pure passion. Haru's skin tasted of heat and movement. His body tensed and relaxed against Makoto's, and his cock in Makoto's hand gradually stiffened. That sign of Haru's enjoyment intensified Makoto's own. He was the one doing this. He felt powerful and alive, all his nerve endings wired for pleasure. He was connected to Haru, the person he was in love with, his best friend, the other half of his heart. He whimpered, feeling himself getting close.

"Makoto. Makoto! Stop."

He froze, realizing that Haru had been calling his name for a while now. _Stupid, stupid._ He'd been so focused on his own pleasure and his silly fantasies that he hadn't been paying attention. "I'm sorry," he hurried to say. He backed off of his friend, nearly falling in his haste. "I'm so sorry. What's wrong?"

Haru huffed and turned around. "I want to _watch_ ," he reminded Makoto. He pushed Makoto onto his back, then sat down cross-legged beside him.

Makoto sighed in relief -- then fully processed what Haru had said. "Oh, um, you're going to watch from there?"

Tilting his head inquiringly, Haru asked, "Is that all right with you?"

Desire yanked on his insides. Makoto's cock seemed to like the idea of Haru watching him just fine. "I, um. Okay. Should I...?" He hovered his hand over himself in illustration. Haru nodded and leaned forward.

Groaning, Makoto took himself in hand. He was close. This wouldn't take long at all. He hadn't known he was an exhibitionist. Maybe it was just because it was Haru watching him that made this so incredibly hot. He could still feel the memory of Haru's slick skin around his cock, squeezing and sucking him, the wet sounds of them moving together. His cock in his hands became Haru's, sharing all of himself with Makoto, baring himself without the slightest qualm. Haru, who was open and trusting, seeing all of Makoto, accepting all of him, wanting all of him regardless of his faults. Haru, his observant eyes unblinking as they watched him pleasure himself. Haru...

"Ah... Ah, Haru. Oh!"

The world shrank down when Makoto came. There was no room for worries or fears, no room for anything except pure pleasure. There was nothing extra, nothing missing. In this moment, everything was exactly the way it should be. He was connected to everything in the universe and every single thing was perfect. _He_ was perfect. Tachibana Makoto was exactly what, who, and where he was supposed to be and nothing more or less than that.

When he returned to himself, Haru was stroking his hair. It seemed a strangely paternal gesture, considering what had just happened. The condom had been removed, and a blanket had been laid over him. Makoto blushed, imagining Haru doing those things for him while he'd been blissed out from more or less performing a sex show.

"Was I-- very loud?" he asked, his voice coming out small and tentative.

"You were perfect."

Haru was giving him that special proud, indulgent smile, and Makoto's heart, which had only just started to calm, sped up again. He looked away. Collecting himself, he sat up. "Now it's your turn," he said -- only to notice with dismay that Haru's erection had completely deflated. "Oh, no. We should have done you first, since it's harder for you. Here, I'll--"

Haru deflected his arm gently. "I've already cleaned up. It'd be a bother to just get messy again."

"It must have been awful, watching me come when you hadn't yet."

"I don't, always," Haru told him, carelessly.

Like the idea of Haru masturbating in the first place, this was both shocking and completely sensible. Even Makoto occasionally gave up if he was too tired. He would never stop in the middle while with a partner, however. That would be incredibly rude. "Still, I can--"

"Don't worry about it. I'm hungry. We should get started on dinner." Following action to word, Haru stood and went to his dresser for a pair of jammers. "I have some chicken, if you want that instead of mackerel," he offered, as he pulled on the familiar black and purple swimwear.

"Oh, you don't have to..." Disoriented by the change in topic, he clutched the blanket in front of his naked body as he watched Haru put on a shirt and some sweatpants. With each passing moment, he felt more indecent about both what he had done and what he had failed to do.

"Makoto, stop feeling guilty. You're overthinking it." Haru knew him too well. Squatting in front of him to look him in the eye, Haru gestured with his chin at the bathroom. "Get cleaned up and help me with dinner."

"Are you sure? Just because you don't react the same way... Haru, I just _used_ you. That's horrible of me."

Haru tilted his head, baffled. "I wanted to see you come, and you did."

"Is that really all you wanted?" Makoto asked, feeling shy and confused.

"You're beautiful when you come, Makoto." Haru had said that last time, too.

Makoto ducked his head, embarrassed. "Don't say dumb things, Haru."

"I mean it. I think even Rei would say so."

"Haru!" Makoto laughed in disbelief. "Don't talk about other men right after we were in bed together."

"Okay. I'll remember that for next time."

 _Next time?_ "You would do this again?"

Haru didn't seem aware that he had said anything momentous. Evidently correctly surmising that Makoto had given in to his argument, he stood and headed to the kitchen area. "If it came up again, I wouldn't mind."

Makoto breathed in through mouth and nose, then out through his nose, imagining the steady rhythm of his backstroke. It was a breathing drill he'd first learned when he'd started competitive swimming, to train himself away from holding his breath. The best exercises in the world couldn't help his racing heart, however, or his endorphin-drunk mind. It was a wonder he didn't faint right there on the spot.

They made chicken risotto, and it was one of the best things Makoto had ever tasted. 

***

"You seem distracted today."

"Do I?" Makoto sipped his rum and coke, the first time he'd tried this particular drink. He'd decided that he didn't like rum after all, but he was in too good of a mood to be bothered by it.

"That guy over there has been trying to get your attention for the last five minutes."

"Oh! I didn't notice." Makoto gave said boy at a neighboring table a smile and a shake of the head. A good sport, he smiled back and shrugged. His friend nudged his shoulder and pulled him away towards the bar. Makoto hadn't even gotten a proper look at what he'd looked like. "I'm just here for the drinks and the company," he told Takumi quite honestly.

As far as Haru was concerned, having sex had 'worked'. Makoto felt mellow and pleased with the world, that anxious melancholy dispelled. It felt good to just relax and enjoy the music and the energy here, with no goal in mind.

Takumi rolled his eyes and turned his attention to his phone. Shuuji, however, gave Makoto a speculative look.

***

"You slept with him _again_?"

Makoto shushed his friend hurriedly. The fast food place was loud with the after-school crowd, but still, it wasn't the place to be shouting things of a private nature.

Suitably apologetic but no less agitated, Shuuji leaned in close to say, with sarcasm at maximum, "What happened this time? Was he just helping you practice your dolphin kick?"

Shuuji meant well, Makoto reminded himself. Shuuji was worried about him. Shuuji was his friend. "He knows I'm still attracted to him. He wanted to help."

"'Help'. Like how he 'helped' last time? Do you think that maybe he actually has a thing for you and just doesn't realize it?"

"He-- He realizes."

Shuuji stared. Makoto stared back. Shuuji stared some more. Makoto averted his gaze. "He realizes what, exactly?"

Makoto mumbled his answer.

"What?"

"He said he-- He said he liked it. Being with me." That wasn't as specific as the whole truth would require, but Makoto would die a thousand deaths of embarrassment if he told Shuuji what Haru had actually said.

"Oh, wow. Okay, then. So...?"

Makoto tore a bit of bun off the top of his hamburger and ate it, stalling for time. "The point is, he's not like you think. He's self-aware. He just doesn't like me that way. It's not his fault."

"And he still doesn't know how you feel?" Makoto shook his head. "How can he not know? I thought you two were almost telepathic."

"We're not telepathic. We just know how each other thinks well enough to guess."

"And he can't 'guess' that his best friend has hearts in place of eyes and wants to move into a seaside cottage with him?"

Makoto resisted the urge to throw a French fry at his friend. Being a role model for his younger siblings had instilled habits of good behavior in him. He settled for a wordless glare.

"He has to be the most oblivious guy on the face of the Earth."

"Haru knows I'm attracted to him. He thinks that's it -- and I don't want him to know any more than that, so don't say anything, please."

Shuuji scowled. "He's oblivious, and you're hopeless. I feel like I'm living in a gay soap opera." He raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Was he good in bed, at least?"

Makoto groaned. "We shouldn't be talking about this."

"I completely disagree."

"Haru is a very private person. He'd hate that we're talking about him like this."

"We're not talking about him. We're talking about you. It's his own damn fault that it's suddenly the same thing." Shuuji sighed. "This is why they say you should never sleep with friends."

"We slept together," Makoto reminded him, smiling a little.

"That was before we were friends."

"We weren't friends?" Makoto affected a devastated puppy-dog look, the one everyone told him was his secret weapon. Shuuji rolled his eyes.

"You know what I mean."

It felt good to laugh.

Shuuji's face went a little more serious. "Makoto, maybe I'm being too much of a romantic, but I don't think you should give up. Maybe Haru's just a little thick. You're fantastic. If he doesn't get with you, then he's an idiot."

There were any number of ways to answer that, from protesting the very idea, to defending Haru once again, to downplaying his own charms.

_"I like Makoto."_

In the end, Makoto chose simply to say, "Thanks, Shuuji. Maybe."

Maybe...

***

"Are you ready to date again?"

"Uh, what?" With great luck, Makoto's grip on the edge of the pool prevented him from ingesting any water at the question. He looked around, but no one seemed to be paying any attention to them. A peculiar truth about natatoriums was that the echo made every sound much louder and at the same time made every conversation unintelligible from half a meter away. "Why do you ask?"

Haru tilted his head at a young man wearing swim shorts in the university's colors, doing warmup stretches near the entrance to the locker rooms. "Himura is a second year like us. He swims backstroke and butterfly. He's majoring in math. He has a little sister and a pet cat. He can cook."

It was only gradually that Makoto realized what Haru was saying. Aware that he was staring at the person in question, Makoto quickly averted his gaze. "Are you trying to set me up with him?"

"Only if you want me to." Makoto wasn't sure how to interpret Haru's expression. Haru wasn't hopeful or excited, simply earnestly factual.

"Excuse me? Are you two here to swim or here to chat?"

Makoto hastily apologized to the irritated-looking student looking down at them. Haru, unperturbed, lowered his goggles and swam for the other side. Makoto followed in his own lane, not bothering with a starting launch.

It was the start of Haru's semester break, and he'd invited Makoto to swim in the Olympic-sized training pool, which was usually restricted to the team's use. It seemed that other students had had the same idea, because the place was crowded.

Makoto had meant to take advantage of the longer and deeper lanes to work on his freestyle today, but, distracted, he slipped into his favorite stroke now. Far above, the ceiling lights passed by through showers of droplets thrown up by Makoto's arms. With every stroke, Makoto's mind changed on how he felt about the apparent return of Haru's matchmaking.

Had Haru discovered how Makoto felt and was sending him a subtle reply? No. Makoto discarded that idea immediately. Haru was too direct for that. If Haru knew how Makoto felt, he would try to talk to Makoto first. Therefore, he remained oblivious. That was a good thing... wasn't it?

Instead of feeling satisfied at the apparent success of his poor powers of dissembling, Makoto felt irritated. He was aware of his strokes becoming more wild, wasting energy, but not competing anymore meant that he didn't have to care.

They'd just slept together the other day, and right away, Haru was trying to foist him off on someone else. Did Haru really feel nothing for Makoto at all?

No, he reassured himself. That wasn't what Haru had done. Haru had sought out someone he thought would make Makoto happy. He had gone to the effort of interacting with someone and learning about him for the sake of possibly introducing him to Makoto. He genuinely cared about Makoto and wanted the best for him.

That just didn't include a relationship with himself.

But Haru didn't always understand his own feelings, right? He cared for Makoto as a friend. Makoto never doubted that. They had slept together (made love) twice now, even though sex wasn't something Haru was normally interested in. That had to mean something, right?

He swam three laps in a row at a near sprint, took the shortest break he could manage, and then swam a dozen more at a slightly more moderate pace. After having already been swimming for an hour previous, by the time he hauled himself out of the pool, his limbs felt weak and his head waterlogged.

 _Himura likes cats_ , was somehow the thought that persisted in his mind. Haru had found Makoto a boy their age with dark hair, who liked children and cats and knew how to cook. Was it a message of hope? Was it a subconscious rebuttal? Was Haru cautiously inviting him in, or was he gently shutting him out? Makoto was all mixed up.

"Are you okay?" Haru was there, holding out a towel. It was only then that Makoto realized he hadn't been there to pull Haru out like usual at the end of the day. Along with a brief stab of guilt, he wondered with a hopeful flutter if Haru had looked for him. Haru's expression, however, betrayed no clue of either confusion or affection. Makoto was plunged into doubt once again.

"Yeah. I just need to catch my breath." He purposely misunderstood Haru's concern, even knowing that Haru would see through it and be even more worried by it. Haru trailed after him to the showers and glanced over at him several times, but they changed side by side without speaking.

Unlike natatoriums, locker rooms amplified conversations fairly coherently.

As soon as they exited into the hallway, with its cover of other chattering voices, Haru drew close and said, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Himura showed up, and I thought you wouldn't mind just looking. You've been going out more again, and you seem... better. I thought you were ready. I should have asked, first."

The near-babbling stream of apologies was unusual for Haru and a sure sign of anxiety. Makoto hated that he had put that anxiety in his friend. "It's okay. I was just surprised." He hesitated, then asked, "Why did you choose him, Haru?"

Haru frowned. "I thought you would like him. It doesn't matter. I shouldn't have pushed you."

"I mean... You've only met two other people I've been attracted to, and you all look different. Why did you choose Himura?" Shuuji was average height and build with reddish brown hair. Tatsuo was tall and muscular and black-haired. Haru was average height and slim with black hair. Out of the three samples, Haru had chosen someone who looked most like himself. Had it been a conscious choice, or simply chance or convenience?

Haru looked baffled by the question. They exited the building, into the crisp fall air, before he replied. "I don't think you have a physical type, do you? You like people who are honest with you." His nose wrinkled like his mackerel had gone bad. "Watanabe wasn't honest," he appended. "But you thought he was at the time. You're attracted to people who speak their mind."

Makoto was stunned. He'd never told Haru that. True, he'd shared stories about his sexual adventures at the beginning, but he'd never talked about what exactly he'd first been attracted to in each of his partners or the commonalities between them. Shuuji and the others, for all that they'd been with him, hadn't been able to figure it out. Makoto himself hadn't ever tried to articulate it in so many words. "What else do I like, Haru?"

They were standing next to a planter now, between the gym and the biological sciences building. A bare-branched tree cast thin shadows over them from the cloudy sky. The fractured light accentuated the confusion on Haru's face. "I don't understand."

"Tell me what else you think I like in a boyfriend."

"You like people who are passionate about something in life," Haru answered slowly, unsure. "You like people who are confident and maybe even a little arrogant." Here, he scowled again. "That's why you liked Watanabe so much. He put you down and told you what to do, but he made you feel like he knew best. He was exciting, and he made you feel safe."

Makoto bit his lip, but he refused to look away. "I think you're right. What else?"

Haru lowered his eyes, contrite. "It wasn't your fault. He took advantage of you."

"What else, Haru? Tell me."

It was clear that Haru was uncomfortable with the conversation, but he had never yet refused a direct request from Makoto. Makoto so rarely asked him for anything, he knew Haru would give in. "You like people who are kind, who try to help people. You don't care if they make mistakes, as long as they had good intentions and apologize and make up for it. You like people who want to protect you, even when you don't need it. You like people you can protect, too, even when they don't appreciate it. You like to feel needed."

Makoto sat down on the edge of the planter, his chest and head both floaty with wonder. He hadn't thought he could love Haru more than he already did. "How do you know me so well, Haru?"

Haru's gaze roamed the courtyard, looking for answers, before finally returning to Makoto's. "You're you, Makoto. And I'm me."

Makoto chuckled. That was such a Haru kind of answer. "So, Himura is this kind of person?"

"I think so. Maybe."

"Do you want me to date Himura?" There was no chance he would, of course, but he couldn't help but ask. Would Haru wish for him to date a fellow swimmer, a teammate? Did he maybe, subconsciously, want Makoto to have an excuse to come by more often? He obviously paid attention to Makoto -- even more than Makoto had suspected. If he were nudged just a little bit, if Makoto was patient with him, could he maybe feel more than friendship? Was it possible?

"If you want to. I want Makoto to be happy."

"Don't you think I'm happy now?"

"Yes. But. No." Perceptive Haru. Poor, confused Haru. He knew there was something troubling Makoto, and he was trying to fix it, even if he couldn't quite explain what it was.

For the first time, Makoto felt bad for keeping his feelings from his best friend. Maybe the confusion Haru was experiencing was worse than the hurt it would cause if he knew the truth after all. Maybe Makoto was wrong, entirely. Maybe Haru wouldn't be upset at all.

"I know you said you were happy the way you were. But I think, lately, you want to start dating again. You should, if you want to. I don't think you should give up on dating just because you're afraid of losing a job or people disliking you."

"Those are important things to consider, though."

"Himura is a swimmer. He wants to be a coach someday, too. I think he would be discreet."

"I see. Well, thank you, Haru, but I don't think he's the one."

"But you would try dating, if you found someone you liked?"

He _had_ found someone he liked, and the answer was-- "Yes, I think so." He smiled in a private joke. "You're convincing me, Haru."

Haru looked suddenly eager. "Would you like to meet more people?"

Makoto hesitated, taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"I thought that once you were ready, it might be good for you to have some options. I've been keeping track of a few candidates."

"Wait." Makoto held up his hands. He felt like he'd lost the train of conversation somewhere. "Candidates? What are you talking about?"

Haru stood quite still for several seconds. Then he sat down beside Makoto. "Classmates, people I meet," he said in an undertone.

"You... have other people you think I'd like?" He wasn't sure if Haru's doggedness in finding him a boyfriend was incredibly adorable or only incredibly embarrassing. He hoped none of those 'candidates' knew anything about Haru's plans for them.

"Yes."

"How many?"

"Five."

" _Five_? How long have you been keeping track of 'candidates' for me, Haru? One month? Two?" Makoto thought back. How obvious had his 'unhappiness' been? Would Haru find him out soon?

He could confess now, he realized, instead of making Haru guess. Haru would be so surprised to learn that he was the one who could make Makoto happy. Once he got over that, would he be glad? What would Haru say? Maybe he would give Makoto that special smile. Maybe he would make that cute, pouty face and demand mackerel every morning.

Haru shook his head. "Since the beginning of the school year."

Makoto's flighty fantasies spun out abruptly. "That long?"

The whole semester. Nearly six months. Since before...

Cold shock enveloped him, from head to toe, like being slowly immersed in a bucket of ice water upside down.

He'd had it completely wrong. Haru hadn't started gathering these profiles in response to Makoto's growing crush. He'd been doing it all along and simply waiting for when he thought Makoto would be ready.

Even when they had been together. Even when Makoto had told him he loved him, when Haru had opened himself up to Makoto, let Makoto touch him in the most intimate, secret ways, let Makoto coax out his first shared orgasm. Even when Haru had hinted at the possibility of more.

All that time, Haru had been doing _this_ , had been planning for someone else to have Makoto instead of himself, had been hoping for someone else to make Makoto happy. Sleeping with Makoto hadn't changed his plans one whit. It had been merely a diversion, no more romantic than playing a video game together.

_"This is good, but it isn't new."_

No matter how exciting, you didn't keep playing the same game over and over. Once you played it through, it was done. You might go back and visit, less and less often as time went on, until one day you wondered to yourself why you still had the disc around -- and then you got rid of it.

Makoto had known all this to start with. Of course he had. Haru had never indicated otherwise. It'd all been in Makoto's empty, lovestruck head.

Even so, he felt his heart break all over again, shattering irretrievably this time into grains of sand at Haru's feet.

"Makoto?"

Makoto blinked and tried to recover, tried to think of something truthful to say, because he couldn't lie now, with his mind blank and his every emotion no doubt on display. "I can't believe you did all this for me."

"You're upset. I went too far, didn't I? You know best what you want. It's not my place."

"No, you... you know me very well, Haru." So very well. And yet, not well enough. "I should go home." He stood mechanically, fumbling his gym bag to his shoulder. Haru jumped to his feet as well.

"Makoto."

"Thank you for inviting me to the pool. I'll see you on Tuesday for dinner, right?"

"Makoto, wait. I'm sorry. Don't leave."

Through his shock, he recognized Haru's tightly reined panic. Melting slightly, he reached down and hooked Haru's pinky finger with his own. "I won't leave you, Haru. Everything will be fine. We promised, didn't we?"

Haru nodded, his face still wary.

"I just need a little time to think. It's not your fault, and I'm not mad at you. Okay?"

Visibly reluctant, Haru let his hand go. "Okay."

As he left, Makoto told himself firmly not to look back.


	10. Part IV: Hikaru, Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A friend visits from Iwatobi, and Makoto is a colossal idiot.

Nagisa had always been a bit of a force of nature. Even when he was tiny and cute and (on the surface, at least) easy to dismiss, his sheer enthusiasm had drawn Makoto and the others to him. Later, after he'd proven himself a fast enough swimmer, by Rin's standards, to join their relay team, his ceaseless optimism had helped keep them all working hard toward their goal. In high school, it was an even more refined wrecking ball-esque Nagisa who had formed the swim team out of gumption alone, recruited Rei by dint of stubborn harassment, and finally dragged Rin back into their orbit. Even now, his texts and emails peppered their group with emojis and energy.

It was a shock but not a surprise, therefore, when Makoto received a text the first week of fall semester: { _I'm visiting Tokyo this weekend! Let me stay with you???_ }

Of course, he answered in the affirmative, and he thus found himself on Friday night with a blond fireball rocketing into his apartment.

At Nagisa's request, he had arranged for a night out with the group to a dance club. Haru had been invited as well, but neither of them had been surprised when he'd declined.

Things between him and Haru had settled, for the most part. Makoto had explained that he'd simply been overwhelmed at thoughts about the future. When Haru had still seemed uncertain, he'd gently alluded to Haru's own nearly debilitating episode of anxiety in high school. It was an underhanded move that verged on lying -- but it had worked. Haru had accepted his explanation, and the rest of the semester break had been spent in blessed normality.

Now that Makoto was clear-headed about his situation, with neither forced tragedy nor unrealistic fantasies muddling his mind, he felt that he had gotten control of his inconvenient feelings. With just a little more time, he felt he would be able to truly resume the seamless friendship that had survived for nearly two decades.

Those thoughts were for a different time, however. Tonight, it was opening weekend at The Bounce, with seven college students itching for action, and what looked like two hundred kilometers of rainbow crepe paper and a truckload of glitter.

As Makoto had both expected and hoped for, everyone took to his peppy, extravagant, adorably devilish underclassman immediately. It wasn't long before Nagisa and Kazu were engaged in a serious eating competition, with the rest of them egging them on and keeping score. Kazu had an appetite, but Nagisa's bottomless stomach won out in the end. Nagisa accepted congratulations and compliments with elaborate bows and an unnecessarily theatric burp.

Creative, shameless, and a born mimic with seemingly boundless energy, Nagisa easily stole the show as the center of attention. He flirted outrageously with everyone -- and everyone returned the favor. It made Makoto rather nervous, to tell the truth, though he knew Nagisa was unlikely to get into trouble among their group.

He did pull captain status and forbid Nagisa from drinking alcohol, although he was reasonably sure that Nagisa must have had beers before with his college friends in Iwatobi. Tokyo was different from their hometown, however, and he felt responsible for Nagisa here. For fairness's sake, of course, Makoto had to forgo his usual one drink as well, since he was technically also underage. He didn't care to imagine the incredible ribbing he was going to get from his friends after this night. His reputation as a goody-goody was truly cemented.

He found himself wondering if this was how it would feel to be a father.

Pretty soon, it didn't matter. It was easy to get drunk on just their company and the latening hour. It was well past midnight by the time they returned to Makoto's apartment.

After their wild night, he'd expected them both to fall immediately asleep. Certainly, he'd been on the way there, already floating in that in-between state where the hum of the refrigerator was a noticeable but not entirely unwelcome buzz in the back of his mind, when a soft voice came to him from the futon next to his bed.

"Mako-chan..."

"Hm?"

"I think I might be gay."

Makoto blinked hard and got up on one elbow. He was pretty sure he needed to be awake for this. He turned on the light at the head of his bed. First, he checked to see if Nagisa was simply sleep-talking, but the boy was looking straight back at him, his eyes, the color of maraschino cherries, alert. "Ah. That's fine, Nagisa. Thank you for telling me. That was very brave."

Nagisa drew his blanket up to just under his nose. "But I also don't think I'm gay."

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Makoto sat up. "I'm going to get us some tea."

"Okay."

Several minutes later, they were at Makoto's coffee table, blankets wrapped around their shoulders, steaming mugs in front of them. "Tell me about it," Makoto urged him gently.

"Rei-chan had a girlfriend."

" _What?_ " That was possibly the last thing Makoto had expected to hear this night. He tried, clumsily, to recapture the air of open acceptance he'd been attempting to set earlier. "Sorry, er, how, uh, how does that make you feel?"

Thankfully, Nagisa giggled, his soulful expression momentarily overtaken by mirth. For all Makoto knew, his blunt statement had been made by design, expressly to elicit Makoto's response. "I know, right? Mr. Logic himself. I couldn't believe it. Flower bouquets and dates to the amusement park and bowties and everything! It was only for a month, though. Then they broke up by 'mutual agreement'." He did a fair imitation of Rei's voice and made finger-quotes.

"I see. Wait, should you be telling me this?"

"It wasn't a secret. He told me about it himself, and he kept me updated and everything."

"Rei never said a thing to us!" Then again, a month wasn't much time at all. Makoto hadn't even told his friends about Tatsuo, and that had lasted almost three times as long. Maybe Rei had wanted to make sure it would last before announcing it. "It must have hurt to break up so soon, when he was putting that much effort into it."

"Oh, no. That's the thing. He said he just wanted the experience."

Makoto frowned. "That's--"

"It was the same for the girl, too," Nagisa hastened to add. "They both just wanted to try it out."

"To try... dating?"

"Yeah. Weird, right? Both of them had never had a boyfriend or girlfriend, and they got to talking about it, and, I don't know how, but they decided to just do it for a month."

"Oh, but surely... A whole month, and he felt nothing?"

"I asked him that, too. He was kind of annoyed at me. I mean, I'd already been kind of bugging him about it, I guess. He was really insistent that it was just an experiment. I even talked to the girl, too, when I visited Rei-chan over break, and she said the same thing. They both seemed pretty happy about how the, uh, experiment went, but they didn't want to continue it."

"Wow," Makoto said, trying to imagine it. "It's too bad. It almost sounds like they would have been a good match."

Nagisa sighed. "That's what I said, too."

"Wait a minute." Makoto shook his head. "What does all this have to do with you thinking you're gay?" As soon as he had said it out loud, he realized the most obvious answer. "Oh, Nagisa."

The mixture of amusement and bemusement in Nagisa's expression faded. He put his forehead down on the table, pulling his blanket over his head. "I _missed_ him," he admitted in a soft, muffled wail. "I'd been thinking about him all year, and he goes and gets a girlfriend. I was so _jealous_. I didn't even really realize for a while, and then when I did, I still couldn't stop, and I was making Rei-chan mad, but I didn't know what to do, and I didn't want to tell you guys because that felt like talking behind his back, and besides, it wasn't even real because they didn't like each other that way, and then it was all over, and now everything's back to normal except that I don't even know how I feel anymore."

While Nagisa took a deep breath to replenish his oxygen supply, Makoto scrubbed his hands over his own face, suppressing a sympathetic groan. What a mess. "Are you still... Do you still feel the same way about Rei specifically?"

"No. Sort of, but no." Nagisa rolled his head sideways and peeked out from the opening in his self-made tent. "That's why I'm so confused."

"What's the 'sort of'?"

"I kind of wish that he would treat me the way he did his fake-girlfriend."

"You mean like... physically?"

"Yes? Maybe. I already hug him a lot, but he never hugs me first. I'd like that. And I really, really want to hold hands with him all of a sudden. And... I guess I wouldn't mind if he wanted to kiss me."

"Do you want to kiss him?"

Nagisa groaned. "Maybe? I think so? I, um, I don't think I want to have sex with him, though. Actually, I looked up some video things online and boys don't really do anything for me but... but... girls-still-make-me-really-hot," he finished in a burst. Not much made Nagisa blush, but this came close.

Makoto rubbed his cheeks uncomfortably. He reminded himself that as petite and child-like as Nagisa often seemed, he was a teenaged boy and having a healthy sex drive was perfectly normal -- even if Makoto didn't want to imagine it in too much detail. He cleared his throat and forced his mind back to his friend's confusion.

"I don't know, Nagisa. Maybe you just missed your best friend." Normal day-to-day society didn't encourage casual touch, and Nagisa was a physical person. Considering there wasn't a sexual component to his attraction to Rei, it wasn't impossible to surmise that he simply liked touching people in general and his friends in particular.

Nagisa sat up straight, the blanket popping off his head like a hood. "But! The thing is, I don't get jealous when he talks about spending time with his smart friends in that fancy school of his. I only felt jealous when he was going on dates and buying Yasuko-chan stuff." He frowned. "Am I materialistic? Is that it?"

"No, I don't think so." Nagisa collected little figures and plushies, but he was also generous and, truth to tell, a little bit careless, with his possessions.

"I also want to get dressed up and have dinner with him at a nice place and go on a vacation with just him and me. I think about sleeping in his lap or touching his hair, silly things like that. Oh, yeah! And I want to play those lover's games they have at carnivals and holiday events."

Makoto had to admit none of those things sounded like typical best friend behavior. He had never had wistful dreams of taking Haru out to a fine dining restaurant until the onset of his current problem -- although he had played a few of those games with Haru before when they were younger.

"So, I guess I want to be best friends with Rei-chan, and I want to date him, but I don't want to have sex with him. What does that mean?"

Makoto shook his head, equally bewildered. He wished Masaki were here. He was a social science major and had better insight into these things.

Nagisa clutched the blanket tighter around himself. "I've been kind of checking out some of the boys on the team when I visit, but the idea of dating them is weird. I thought maybe it was just because they're my lowerclassmen and also I don't know if any of them are gay. I was looking at all the boys at the club today, though, and I still don't want to get close to any of them the way I want to with Rei-chan. I've tried really hard not to let this bother me, but I just can't figure it out. What's wrong with me, Mako-chan?"

That, at least, was easy to answer. It was what Haru had always said to Makoto himself. "Nothing's wrong with you, Nagisa." He reached across and tugged on Nagisa's hands until he let Makoto take them. The blanket fell off his shoulders, but he paid it no mind, biting his lip and looking at Makoto from under his ruffle of wavy bangs.

"It's weird, though, isn't it? I guess I'm not straight, but I'm not even properly gay like you, and it shouldn't matter but it _bothers_ me. I thought I was better now. I used to cry all the time when other kids made fun of me, but I got _stronger_ , with Haru and with you and everyone. I don't want to go back to how I used to be."

Nagisa should never cry. Makoto felt like angels must fall out of the sky whenever tears fell from those eyes. That imagery might sound overly dramatic, but Nagisa seemed to inspire that kind of drama. "Nagisa, _nothing_ is wrong with you," he repeated emphatically. "Everyone's a little different, okay? We just use big labels to make things easier to talk about."

"Do you think there are other people like me?"

"I bet there are. Here, we could search online right now." Makoto started to reach for his phone, but Nagisa grabbed his hand back.

"What if we don't find anything? What if I'm just a freak?"

Makoto leaned over the table and wrapped Nagisa in as complete of a hug as he could. "We're all freaks in different ways, Nagisa. Shuuji said that to me the first time we met."

"I suppose. Shuu-chan seems pretty smart." Still, Nagisa hesitated.

"It'll be okay," Makoto assured him. "We'll just read a bit to figure out where to start, and then you can research more after you get home."

It wasn't long before they were huddled up on the bed under the blanket, reading about terms like 'demisexual' and 'biromantic', and also 'sapioromantic' and 'demiromantic'. Then, somehow, they wound up on websites about 'pansexuality', 'asexuality', 'hypersexuality', 'autosexuality'.

Because the internet was what it was, and because 4AM Makoto apparently had as few inhibitions as 2AM Nagisa did, they soon wandered into just plain 'sex'. Around 5AM, they were reading about how to make your own dildos, and half an hour later, the advantages of different whip materials. The first light of dawn was cause for hilarity, both of them loopy and euphoric with lack of sleep. Eventually, they fell into slumber before being woken too short a time later at the sound of Makoto's doorbell.

Haru, bearing breakfast, let himself in at Makoto's groggily shouted invitation. He stared at them, and Makoto was abruptly hyperaware of how rumpled he must look, and how he was probably red-eyed and sallow-faced -- hardly how he wished Haru to see him, ever. While he was mentally panicking over this, Nagisa, squeezed into the bed next to him, blinked rapidly and scrubbed his face with his hands. Then, proving he had more stamina than Makoto did, he tumbled out of bed and tackled their friend.

"Haru-chan! I've missed you so much! Did you know I'm not gay?"

Makoto, gathering himself, heaved himself out of the blankets to follow at a more leisurely pace.

Calmly, still held fast in Nagisa's embrace, Haru held the paper bag of pastries out for Makoto to take. "Congratulations," he said, in the least congratulatory tone possible, which only made Nagisa laugh. Makoto, yawning, stared at the bag for a long moment, before remembering what food was for. He set it on the kitchen counter and opened a cabinet. He recalled only after a few seconds of staring at oil and rice and condiments that he'd been looking for plates.

"You were out late last night," Haru observed. Nagisa, apparently having decided that Haru's muscular chest made a nice pillow, was still snuggled against him. Haru looked down at the top of Nagisa's head, then over at Makoto. Makoto started to ask him if he was all right, since he seemed to be swaying slightly from side to side -- before Makoto realized that was himself.

"Good morning," Makoto remembered to say, belatedly. Haru was silent for a few seconds.

"I think you two should sleep some more."

"No!" Nagisa immediately protested into the front of his shirt. "I came to spend time with you two! Don't go!"

"I'll read a book until you wake up."

And that, Makoto was chagrined later to recall, was exactly what happened.

They treated Haru to a grand late lunch.

***

The rest of the weekend was spent showing Nagisa around Tokyo. At his request, they even swam for a few hours in Haru's university recreational pool. Nagisa was full of excited commentary and wonder at everything. His unique perspective, his willingness to try anything, and his readiness to be entertained were uplifting and addictive. Thanks to Nagisa, they even explored a few parts of Tokyo that Makoto hadn't been to before. It was like arriving brand new in the megatropolis again.

It felt wonderfully nostalgic, too, reminding Makoto of when the four of them would travel together to swim meets and joint training trips. Makoto wished that Rei was with them. The four of them ought to take a trip together, he thought.

Too soon, they stood together at the airport, preparing to part once again.

"Take care," Makoto told him. Nagisa, looking subdued and even a little shy, nodded. Haru was as patiently silent as always.

A recorded announcement asked them politely, first in Japanese, and then in English, to please watch their belongings.

"Mako-chan, thank you."

"Huh?" He found himself with an armful. A quick squeeze later, Nagisa stood back, looked between the two of them, and then nodded decisively.

"You can tell Haru-chan what we talked about."

Haru looked at Makoto, curiosity in the tilt of his head and the slight change to the shape of his eyes. It took Makoto a moment to connect what Nagisa was saying. "Oh!" Nagisa probably hadn't wanted Haru to feel left out but also didn't want to tell Haru himself. Despite his outgoing personality, Nagisa was awkward about sharing his personal worries. "Are you sure?"

"It's all right. I trust Mako-chan, and I trust Haru-chan, too. Besides, I know you tell each other _everything_. I wouldn't want to make you keep naughty secrets." He winked in a theatrically lascivious manner. "You should especially tell him about that website with the vegetables."

It was obviously a joke. Nagisa was that sort of person, and he knew exactly how to rile Makoto. Regardless, Makoto blushed like an electric stove. If Nagisa only knew what went on in Makoto's head regarding Haru...

"Your boarding time is coming up," Haru said, telegraphing a lack of amusement -- but he graced their mischievous friend with a smile immediately after. "It was good seeing you, Nagisa. Until New Year?"

"Yes!" Nagisa agreed. He flashed them a wide grin before heading toward his gate, his pink travel bag over one shoulder. They watched until he turned the first corner at the security check, waving back to him when he leaned comically far to wave at them until the last second.

"Nagisa hasn't changed a bit, has he? It's only been one weekend together, and already I know I'll miss him."

"Hm. What were you supposed to tell me about vegetables?"

" _That_ is not important," Makoto informed him quickly. On their way back from the airport, however, he did explain what Nagisa had told him the first night.

Haru listened attentively, though with no change in expression. After a brief silence, he asked, "Is he going to talk to Rei?"

"He didn't say. I got the feeling he hadn't made up his mind yet." Makoto had tried to ask, but Nagisa had dodged the question or given half-answers. Regardless, he had seemed much more comfortable and more like his usual self after their talk.

Haru frowned, and Makoto knew what he was thinking.

"It's all right, Haru. He'll figure it out. I think he's grown up a lot. He won't run away from his problems anymore." Haru looked at him, and Makoto smiled ruefully. "Yes, I suppose that applies to me too. You don't need to worry about me, either."

Haru huffed. "I didn't say anything."

Makoto knew himself to be in a very select group of People Haru Cared About. Rin, by sheer force of his provoking personality, had barged his way into that circle in grade school. Nagisa, Makoto was pretty sure, despite his sustained open admiration of Haru, hadn't quite made it in until some time into high school. It had probably been after the training camp or even after the Regionals before Rei had eased into the group.

Oh, Haru was never deliberately mean to anyone, and in general, he was quite considerate when he paid attention. It was that last part that was important. Haru simply didn't have the energy or the desire to care about everyone around him, reserving it for his 'family' of friends instead.

As far as Makoto knew, he had been in that exclusive club for most of his life.

No, Haru didn't love him the way Makoto loved him, but Makoto had an even more special place in Haru's heart than a simple 'boyfriend' would. From that perspective, he felt treasured above everyone else in the world. He still couldn't help but _wish_ , but when it came down to it, he might already have the closest thing to a relationship with Haru as he could get, and he was truly grateful for that.

***

The day after Nagisa left, Haru suddenly announced to Makoto that he had decided to 'come out' to their friends. While his expression and tone made the air quotes obvious, he seemed genuine in his intent. Makoto was surprised, to put it mildly. "Why?" he exclaimed. He recovered his composure enough to add, "Not that I don't think it's a great idea, because it is! I'm sure everyone will be very supportive."

"If I do it all at once like you did, then it'll be over quicker," he explained. "I don't want Nagisa to feel like the only weird person in our group. Besides, maybe after your and my examples, he'll feel better about it if he ever wants to do the same thing."

That was just like Haru, helping a friend and cutting down on 'bother' for himself all at once. "That sounds wonderful. Let me know if you want my help with anything. Just like Haru, to be so brave."

As expected, his supremely unruffled friend merely gave him an indulgently incredulous look.

In true Haru fashion, he sent a group email that said, starkly, { _I guess you all should know. I'm asexual and bisexual._ } No exposition. No explanation. Not even a signature, though that was per usual.

Predictably to anyone who wasn't Nanase Haruka, the group was immediately inundated with messages asking for clarification, context, and generally making a fuss. Haru sent an irritable reply. { _Look it up. That's what the internet is for._ } Then, because Makoto refused to show him how, he laboriously figured out how to filter everyone's further messages to his archives. Makoto had to admit he was as impressed as he was exasperated.

Makoto wound up being the go-to for answers. He was armed, thankfully, with some of the research he and Nagisa had done. Eventually, the discussion settled into everyone asking Makoto to pass on well wishes.

A few days later, Rei suggested a reference book to read. Gou suggested a novel she'd heard of. Rin complained that he hadn't signed up for a bleeping book club. Then, of course, Rei became taken with the idea of forming an actual book club, and their group emails flowed smoothly into their normal back-and-forth, Haru's announcement falling into the background -- exactly, Makoto thought, as Haru would have wished.

***

Having missed the training camp last year for what Haru still vehemently maintained had been an unworthy reason, both he and Makoto were determined that Makoto not miss it this year. Haru had even persuaded his coach to allow Makoto to train with the team, at his own level. After swimming together with Nagisa and Haru, Makoto was doubly excited to experience the mix of stress and satisfaction that he recalled from his own training days. Best of all, he would be able to swim with Haru again, to watch his beautiful Haru swim in a competitive setting alongside his team.

On the bus, he and Haru shared a seat as usual. They'd already settled their bags in the overhead compartment before Makoto remembered that he wasn't, in fact, part of the team. Haru, correctly interpreting his quick look around the bus, told him, "It's all right. Jun is bringing a friend, so he'll sit with him."

Relieved that he wasn't displacing anyone, Makoto sat back down. "Hikaru-san's with the women's team, right?" Most of them were on the other bus.

"Yeah. She's bringing her boyfriend."

"That's great news!" Makoto commented, feeling a rush of glee -- followed by chagrin. It was silly to think that Hikaru had ever been Makoto's rival for Haru's nonexistent romantic feelings. He was glad, however, that any awkwardness between Haru and his friend seemed to have been resolved. "What's he like?"

"I haven't met him yet." There was a short pause before Haru added, "Hikaru looks happy, though."

"That's good."

Makoto didn't think too much more about the matter then. Being among Haru's teammates gave him a heady rush. He'd missed being around swimmers more than he'd thought.

He had worried that he would be an intrusive presence, but perhaps because of his friendship with Haru, everyone immediately included him as an equal. Other swimmers had brought friends and family as well, and everyone was relaxed and welcoming in the vacation-like atmosphere. Even Haru seemed more sociable than Makoto was used to, participating in their discussions and contributing, if sparsely, to Makoto's stories from Iwatobi.

Since coming to Tokyo, Makoto had experienced a massive shift in his social and academic life. He'd almost believed that his new experiences would replace any desire to relive his seemingly childish past. That wasn't the case after all. He loved discussing the finer differences between strokes, exchanging opinions about swim techniques, and relating competition anecdotes to an audience that not only could empathize but _viscerally_ understood the anxiety of pulling a muscle a week before a meet. Even gossiping about other athletes was refreshing simply because he hadn't caught up on the news in so long.

A four-hour bus ride was followed by a cafeteria-style lunch and a short break -- and then the real purpose of the trip began.

If Makoto had felt like one of the group before, he was quickly disabused of that notion now.

Makoto didn't consider himself a competitive person. That was one reason he'd never considered pursuing an athletic career, despite Rin's assurance that he had the physical skill for one (or at least to win a scholarship for trying). Even so, while among these dedicated swimmers, he found himself comparing himself to them and falling shame-facedly short.

He wondered if this was how Rin had felt in Australia. If so, it was no wonder he had come back feeling so despondent. It was a good thing Makoto had already decided that competitive swimming wasn't for him. He didn't think he was as strong as Rin and able to recover from such a blow to his self-confidence. Luckily, he could comfort himself that he wasn't _supposed_ to be as fit as these other people anyway.

"I'm really out of shape," he moaned, massaging his arms after a set of bicep curls. He'd become lax with his weight training since graduating high school, and he was sorry for it now. Haru, beside him, was working with weights heavier than even Makoto had used when competing. "You've gotten so much stronger!" he exclaimed, when he noticed. Though he had swum and taken runs with Haru in the last year, he hadn't gone to the gym with him.

"It's nothing." Haru seemed no more excited about his own progress than he'd used to be about his times. "When you have to do something every day, you can't help but improve."

"You must have worked really hard, though. You used to hate weight training so much."

"Used to..." Haru repeated, giving Makoto a dead-eyed look. Makoto chuckled at the joke.

"You should feel proud of yourself, Haru. I am."

"Must be nice to have your own personal fan club. Is he your secret weapon? I bet Tachibana rewards you well for winning medals." They both turned to look at Nakahara, who was resting between sets on the rower across from them. His words might have been a joke, or even a compliment, if it weren't for the sneering tone. He rubbed a towel over his forehead and temples but watched them from behind it, slant-eyed.

Makoto would have tried to laugh it off or ignore it. Haru, however, took one glance at Makoto, then leveled an absolutely blank stare at Nakahara, an expression that Makoto hadn't seen regularly since their first year in high school. "It is nice," Haru said, in an implacable monotone. "Yes, Makoto is one reason I win. Everyone who has ever encouraged me or challenged me is a reason I win. Are you challenging me?"

Everyone around them was watching them now. The hairs on Makoto's arms prickled.

After a brief hesitation, Nakahara smiled. "Don't be so serious, Nanase. I was just joking with you." He threw his sweat-soaked towel at Haru, who moved just far enough to dodge it, letting it fall to the floor. Makoto picked it up hastily. Thankfully, the floor was clean. He stood and took the two steps across the aisle to hand it back.

"We know you were joking," he agreed out loud, anxious to smooth things over. Nakahara didn't return his smile, but he gave a grunt that Makoto chose to take as a 'thank you'.

A whistle sounded, signaling group rotations. Nakahara, two groups behind theirs, shifted clockwise while they moved the other way on their side.

"Haru, you were amazing," Makoto said in an undertone as they settled into their next station. "You didn't have to do that." He knew it'd been for him. One time in grade school, Haru had accidentally worn his shirt inside-out, and despite the teasing he'd received all day (and Makoto's cajoling), he had refused to turn it the right way. After growing up, he'd never changed that complete disregard of criticism. It was only for his friends that he might purposely confront someone who insulted him. 

"He was annoying me," was all Haru said.

His friends, in contrast, had more to say about it later at dinner. "Oh, Nakahara?" Jun scoffed. "He's always trying to give Haru trouble because he's jealous."

"Jealous?"

"He was the big shot in freestyle before Haru-kun showed up," Hikaru clarified. "He came in fifth in the 200-meter in Berlin."

"What a complete loser. He should get thrown off the team," Jun grumbled. "Don't know why he's so popular."

"He's a good swimmer, and he gets along with most people," Hikaru disagreed. "He and Haru-kun just seem to rub each other the wrong way, unfortunately."

"Hey, don't defend that asshole," Jun complained. "Just because he's good-looking?"

"What are you talking about?" Hikaru demanded. "I'm just saying, there's a reason he's on the team."

"Are you saying it's all Haru's fault?"

"No, of course not."

"Hey, she's just saying that Nakahara has a good side, too. That's a valid opinion," her boyfriend insisted right after.

Jun scowled at him. "Hikaru-senpai can talk for herself. You don't need to butt in. You don't even know Nakahara." Both men were on the edges of their seats.

"Yoshio, I _can_ talk for myself." Before Jun's smug look had fully formed, Hikaru admonished him, "Jun-kun, stop talking before you think." She looked irritated and uncomfortable. "I didn't mean to defend him," she said to Jun, including Haru with a glance. "He's a jerk to Haru-kun, and there's no excuse for that."

Jun shrugged. Hayashi looked disgruntled but stayed silent. Haru seemed unaffected by the exchange. Makoto breathed a sigh of relief for the second time that day. He'd forgotten how charged things could be when a large group of competitive, adrenaline-dosed people got together.

The rest of the week went smoothly enough, in Makoto's opinion. He returned feeling stronger and trimmer and in a happy mood. They'd even done a little sightseeing. Best of all, he had gotten to watch Haru swim in timed trials, something he hadn't witnessed in a long time. Since starting his strict college training regimen, Haru just wanted to relax and enjoy the water whenever he spent time with Makoto in the pool. While Haru would always be beautiful in the water, when focused and determined to improve his times, he was a different creature entirely.

Makoto was immensely satisfied to note that Haru came out on top over his fellow swimmers more often than not. He didn't mind so much being called Haru's 'personal fan club'. In fact, he would be sure to appreciate it while it lasted. When Haru stood on an Olympic podium one day, Makoto would have to share him with the whole world.

***

The one gray spot of the trip had been that Jun and Hayashi seemed to continue to antagonize each other. Makoto didn't think it was on purpose, and he tried his best to help smooth things over. He and Hikaru took to sharing long-suffering looks while Haru ignored everyone with that studied blankness that was as good as an eyeroll on anyone else. Makoto hoped that their relationship would settle down, but unfortunately, two weeks later, when Haru met up with him for a run together, he sensed that Haru was a little more distant than normal.

Makoto didn't have long to wait before the news came. While finishing up his stretches, Haru told the sidewalk in a flat monotone, "Jun and Hayashi don't get along. Hikaru stopped hanging out with us."

As with most of Haru's stories, Makoto wondered what had happened in between the spare sentences -- but the ending was all he needed to know to understand how Haru felt. Haru made friends rarely and deeply. "That's really too bad. You three were such good friends."

"Jun says it's normal."

Wincing, but answering the question there, Makoto agreed, "I suppose it is." It was the usual thing to choose your partner over your friends. Makoto should know that better than anyone.

That made Haru's frown deepen. "Everyone was fine the way we were before. She should just break up with him."

"What? No, Haru..."

Haru huffed an impatient breath, but he tucked his chin, a gesture that was both apologetic and defensive. "If Hayashi were a regular friend, I don't think we'd be having this problem."

"You said Hikaru-san looked happy when she started dating him."

The reminder only made Haru more annoyed. "I thought Hikaru was like me, that she wanted to be free. I asked her if she wanted to marry Hayashi or have kids with him, and she said she wasn't thinking that far ahead yet. I know you said that boyfriends aren't just about sex, but what else is there? Just going on dates? How could that be worth all this trouble?"

Makoto didn't trust himself to speak without laying bare all his mixed-up emotions, so he tilted his head toward the jogging path instead. They started across the park, side by side.

After a while, Makoto felt safe enough to explain, "Being together isn't just a physical thing, Haru. It's sharing yourself completely with another person, being connected, supporting each other. It's always having someone to do things with, having them on your mind, knowing they care about you."

"Friends do all those things."

Makoto sighed. Given their unusual friendship, it seemed impossible to explain this in a way that Haru could understand. "It's more permanent than friendship. Couples are supposed to stay together through good times and bad. You share your goals. It's like you have an idea about the future together. And I guess... it's nice to have one special person to always come home to. It's like you belong to only each other."

He felt his face warm as he imagined all those things with the person he'd most like to share his life with, as impossible as he knew that to be. He risked a glance at Haru's face -- and his pace faltered. Haru looked _angry_.

"Watanabe," Haru spat. "Did he think that you 'belonged' to him?"

"N-No! I meant it in a metaphorical way, a _nice_ way. Oh, Haru," Makoto exclaimed, frustrated and somehow ashamed.

For a while, their feet crunched the dirt of the trail nearly in sync. Then, in a more subdued voice, Haru said, "You still think about him all the time."

"No, I don't," Makoto corrected, astonished and disconcerted that Haru would think that. Tatsuo was the farthest person from his mind lately, now that he spent most of his spare mental energy mooning over Haru and then pretending not to. He didn't have time to have feelings about his ex.

"You still keep up with that stupid magazine that he made you read."

Right, he had kept up with borrowing copies of _Teach Japan_ each week to study. To be honest, he didn't connect it so much with Tatsuo anymore. It was just a useful resource and a part of his routine now. "It is helpful. He wasn't wrong about that." When Haru scowled without meeting his eyes, Makoto said, gently, "I'm not saying he was good for me, overall, but he wasn't completely bad. He actually taught me a lot of things that have been useful."

"Only because he liked to show off."

"Or maybe he really wanted to help me. Does it matter? In any case, he was a big part of my life for a while. I think he'll always influence me in some ways."

"Because he was your boyfriend?" The question was genuine, Makoto thought, but it was also a bit of a challenge.

Reacting defensively, Makoto started to deny it, but then he had to admit that the level of intimacy with a boyfriend did exceed that of a friend. "I guess so. But not just because he was my boyfriend. Anyone can have a big impact on you." He wasn't prepared to talk about who had the most impact on himself, but the most obvious example for Haru would be... "Rin, for example. If you stopped being friends all of a sudden, everything you've done because of him wouldn't disappear overnight."

"Rin doesn't--" Haru stopped himself, looking thoughtful. He realized slowly, out loud, "Rin and I were friends. Then we hurt each other. If we hadn't made up..."

Makoto nodded, glad Haru understood. "Right. Exactly. You'll always influence each other, just because of your past together."

Haru was silent for a long while. He looked ahead, his eyes tracking across the sky. From the speed and movement, it was probably a bird that had captured his attention. Makoto didn't look to find out. He was content with admiring Haru's deep blue eyes, wide and sharp with concentrated thought. Once he realized what he was doing, he looked away quickly. Their footsteps fell together like a pair of carriage horses, and their shoulders rubbed together. Makoto almost missed it when Haru next spoke. "If you and I hadn't made up..."

He felt both fond and sad that Haru might imagine such a scenario ever happening. "That wouldn't have happened, Haru," he assured him. Yes, their first fight had been a bad blow. Makoto hadn't been able to sleep that night from guilt and worry (and a tiny bit of hurt and resentment). He'd never thought that Haru would actually stop being his friend, though. Unless... "Did you think that you couldn't be my friend anymore?"

Haru jerked as if stung by an insect, a single, quick, all-body flinch. "No."

"I would never leave you, Haru. You didn't know that?" He felt a little stung, himself, that Haru had had so little faith in him.

"I was mean to you. You only wanted to help me, but I was scared and I didn't want you to pursue your own dream. You've helped me all my life. I was angry that you wanted to stop. I was selfish. Why would you still want to be friends with someone so selfish?"

"Haru." Makoto blinked back tears. He still couldn't think of anything to say. "Oh, _Haru_."

"You'll have a boyfriend one day. You'll have a family. I'll be like Jun."

Keeping up with what Haru left unsaid required thought and some knowledge of his friend, but Makoto was used to it. "Even if I have a boyfriend, we would still be friends," he assured Haru.

"Did you ever fight with Watanabe because of me?"

"What?" This caught Makoto off guard. Some moments of 'telepathy' took a little more work. "Why would you think that?" Haru simply waited, his gaze trained steadily on the path ahead of them. Makoto sighed. "Not just about you in particular. We fought, sometimes, about all of my friends or how I spent my time. He-- He was a very jealous person." There were reasons for that, but Makoto knew very well that they would just sound like excuses to Haru's ears. "I put some expectations on him that I shouldn't have."

"He invited you to do that. It wasn't your fault."

"Thank you for defending me, Haru, but I do think it was partly my fault. Even though he wasn't... as nice as he could have been, I didn't see the signs. Maybe I could have turned things around if I'd noticed earlier. He's not such a bad person, really. We were just a bad fit for each other."

"You'll meet someone better one day," Haru declared, with not a shred of doubt in his tone, "not a jerk like that bastard."

Mentally giving up the battle, Makoto smiled down at his toes. He glanced over at the grayish blue sneakers hitting the ground next to his. "Maybe I will. Someday."

Haru wiped his sleeve across his forehead. They were both wearing their Iwatobi jackets. "This last year, we've been apart more days than we've been together. I can be okay on my own, Makoto. I can do that now. You don't have to look after me anymore."

"You look after me just as much as the other way around." Makoto frowned. Haru's expression was suddenly opaque even to him. "What are you saying, Haru?"

"If you ever have to choose between me and someone who would make you happy... You shouldn't choose me, Makoto."

Makoto gaped at the very idea, indignant and fearful all at once. "Don't say things like that. We'll always be friends. We promised, didn't we?"

"I want Makoto to be happy."

"I wouldn't be happy without my Haru-chan."

"Stop adding the -chan."

"Yes, yes, Haru. But anyway, someone who would make me choose between him and my friends wouldn't be a good match for me. So, you don't have to ever worry about that."

Haru didn't reply. 

"I mean it, Haru. It's not for your sake. I wouldn't be happy with someone like that, so it would never happen. Got it?"

In mutual silence, they followed the curve of the trail beyond the pond where ducks still swam in the autumn chill. The answer, when it came, was characteristically terse. "Okay."

Haru's smiles had become gradually more common over the years, but it still struck Makoto whenever he saw one. He wished that he could make Haru smile like that every day.

An idea suddenly occurred to Makoto. A stupid, idiotic, outrageous idea. He felt all the breath leave his lungs at once.

_No. Are you insane?_

The voices berating him in his head weren't enough to stop Makoto from blurting, "I could show you what having a boyfriend is like."

Haru didn't look at Makoto like he was crazy. He merely looked puzzled.

"I could be your boyfriend," Makoto clarified.

Now Haru's eyes widened.

"We could try it out, right? Like Rei did. Just for a month. What do you think?" He tried not to let the yearning in him show.

He knew unequivocally now that he couldn't have the real thing, and he'd made his peace with it -- but maybe, just for a month, he could pretend.

Haru skidded to a stop in the middle of the path and growled, " _No!_ "

Makoto stumbled a few strides ahead and turned. Haru had his fists clenched at his sides. "I'm sorry," he said, reflexively, even though he had no idea what had set Haru off so strongly. His heart pounded, and he was pretty sure that wasn't due entirely to their run.

Panting, Haru grit his teeth in that way that meant he was having trouble expressing himself. Makoto waited, nervous and wounded by the vehement denial. More calmly, Haru said, "You need to stop doing things for other people. You should be looking for a real boyfriend, getting that happy family you want, not wasting time playing house with me like some kid, just because I'm feeling sorry for myself."

Relief made Makoto feel weak. Haru wasn't insulted by his suggestion, just dubious about its effect on Makoto. He approached his friend and drew him to the side of the path, where they could talk out of the way. "It's not just for you, Haru. Those months with Tatsuo, even if they weren't perfect... I really liked it. I'm not ready to date anyone else yet, but I'd like to feel that way again."

Haru continued to look stubborn. "Anyone would be a better boyfriend than that bastard. It doesn't need to be me." No matter what Makoto said, Tatsuo continued to be a villain in Haru's head. Makoto probably shouldn't find Haru's attitude as endearing as he did.

"I'm sure you would be great. Maybe you could help me forget about him. He's the only boyfriend I've ever had. It'd be nice to have a different, nicer memory." That was blatant manipulation, he knew, but he could see Haru waver. _Please, please, just let me have this._

"But it'd be fake with me. I don't feel that way about you. I can't." Haru couldn't know how much that hurt. Once again, Makoto hovered on the edge of confessing his feelings -- but he couldn't do that to Haru. Haru hated feeling pressured. And if he reacted by running away...

"We're best friends, Haru. I've always loved you," he said, which was the truth. "It wouldn't exactly be fake."

"You said that kind of love is different."

"I don't know. Maybe I was wrong. Or maybe it's close enough. Anyway, it's not fair for you to never have a relationship, and I can help. We might as well try it now, while I'm single, right?"

"It's not fair for you to be in a relationship if you don't want to be," Haru countered. "It's okay. If I get really curious later, I can try and find somebody else."

"No!" Makoto cried out. He had resigned himself to not having Haru for himself, but someone else, with his Haru? He couldn't possibly stand it. "You can't just be like that with some random person. What if he's not nice to you! No, I want to do it. I want Haru to have the best boyfriend experience ever."

Haru looked thoroughly taken aback by Makoto's intensity. "You're so sure about this."

"I am."

Haru's expression hardened with resolve. "If we do this, we have to remember it's fake, all right? If you find someone you want to date for real, we call it off immediately. I don't want this to distract you."

"I promise. If I find someone else I want to be with, I'll let you know." It was an easy promise to make.

Worry lingered on Haru's face, but eventually, he nodded. "I guess we can give it a try, then."

Makoto ignored the little voice in his head that told him he was being a colossal idiot. Instead, he let the fragile bubble of elation in his chest grow and grow and grow. Unable to contain the feeling, he took off down the trail again, holding out his arms like he was flying. "I'll race you to the water fountains!" he shouted back over his shoulder.

"Makoto!"

He laughed in sheer delight as, for once, Haru chased after him.

  
END Part IV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession: MakoHaru is my OTP in this fandom, but Nagisa is my favorite character. Aside from being adorable by himself, he brings out interesting aspects of other characters around him. :)
> 
> By the way, I'd love to know your thoughts about the original characters in this story, if you're willing to share!


	11. Part V: Ichirou, Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Being 'boyfriends' with Makoto was surprisingly easy._

* * *

**PART V: Ichirou**

* * *

  


Being 'boyfriends' with Makoto was surprisingly easy. They mostly just acted like they'd always used to, except that Makoto was extra solicitous, always ready to ask if Haru needed something.

He'd worried at first that Makoto might want to flirt or touch him all the time, and he'd have to tell him to stop and risk hurting his feelings. All the things that Makoto had told him he'd done with his past partners made Haru nervous. He didn't think he'd be comfortable doing most of those things. He didn't think he'd like acting the way other couples did, either, staring at each other in public and hanging on each other.

He should have known better. He trusted Makoto utterly, and he had good reason for that. Makoto asked shyly before he even dared to kiss Haru's cheek, until Haru finally told him that he was okay with it, always. Since Haru didn't much care what other people thought of him, he soon realized that Makoto's overdeveloped sense of decorum and consideration for Haru's feelings would limit their intimacy more than anything else.

Haru still wasn't sure how he felt about kisses. They were quick and painless, and, perhaps for that reason, seemed to lack the intimacy of a hug, which was both good and bad. His favorite thing about kisses was how much Makoto liked them, the soft way Makoto smiled after giving each one.

Makoto did it often, too, leaving quick, dry pecks on Haru's cheek, on his forehead, on his hands. Sometimes, instead of kisses, Makoto touched Haru with his cheek or his nose. He also liked to sit close to Haru and lean against him when in private. Being Makoto's boyfriend apparently meant that Makoto would hug his arm or bury his face in Haru's shoulder even when the movie wasn't scary.

It was all rather... cute.

Makoto never asked him for sex. He thought that he would be okay with it if Makoto ever did.

***

Their first date was to the aquarium. They had been before, but Makoto insisted that it would be different if they went as a couple.

The biggest difference that Haru could see was that Makoto kept shooting him blushing looks, and when they walked through a dark exhibit, Makoto was bold enough to ask to take Haru's hand. Although Makoto was still in the lead in his careful way, this was nothing like their _first_ , first date. No sex, no swimming, and nothing particularly new. This was, Haru supposed, what a couple might do together while they were still getting to know each other. That seemed redundant for them, but he trusted Makoto to know best.

Holding hands with Makoto, while not exactly a new experience, was an unusual one as an adult. Even as children, Makoto had mostly respected Haru's preference for not being touched or constrained. Brief touches to 'help' Haru, such as wiping his face or fixing his collar, were the only liberties that Makoto had taken regularly. Later, pulling him out of the pool became their most routine physical interaction.

Knowing now how important physical closeness was to his friend, Haru was a little sorry that he hadn't allowed more of it in the past. Unlike other people's, Makoto's touch never bothered him. He wasn't sure if it was because it was so rare, or because it was Makoto. He suspected it was a mixture of both, and perhaps weighted toward the latter.

So, when Makoto slipped his slightly larger hand into Haru's in front of the gar tank, his light touch like a request for reassurance in solid form, Haru answered him by enclosing his fingers firmly. He even lingered in the dark hallway and suggested that they double back after they reached the other side, just to see the way Makoto ducked his head as his smile stretched across his face.

They went to the gift shop at the end. Haru liked the various little ornaments and everyday objects shaped like sea life or stamped with the aquarium logo. What truly captured his attention, however, was an enormous pile of plushies of the aquarium mascot, towered in the center of the store. Green and orange and blue filled his vision. Raptly, he admired how the whiskers contrasted perfectly with the googly eyes. Fan-shaped, spiny fins spread like pairs of wings. Bright red, widely grinning mouths welcomed him closer.

There were various sizes of the stuffed catfish in the arranged pile. A woman handed the toddler with her, presumably her son, one of the medium sized ones, and the boy burst out crying. The woman quickly dropped the plushie back in the pile and led her sobbing son away.

"You like Gigi-chan?" Makoto took the abandoned mascot toy and handed it to Haru.

Haru nodded. He turned the plushie to face him and looked deep into its googly eyes. He shook it once just to watch the pupils jump.

"Okay." Makoto picked out one of the largest ones, nearly half his considerable height, and took it to the cash register.

"Makoto?" Haru dropped the plushie in his hands and hurried after his friend. "Are you buying that?"

"Mm-hm."

Haru stood awkwardly by while the attendant rang up the purchase. "Would you like a special Gigi-chan gift bag, or the regular aquarium one?" After a brief hesitation, Makoto accepted a 'special' bag for the enormous beast, with its name and image printed across it, a speech bubble coming out of the fish's mouth that read FOR YOU in blocky English letters.

As soon as they exited the store, Makoto offered the bag to Haru. "A present," Makoto explained unnecessarily.

Hesitantly, Haru took it. He hugged it to him. "Why?"

"Boyfriends buy each other things."

"I didn't get you anything," he said, frowning. He wished Makoto had told him ahead of time. Dating had so many rules he didn't know.

"It doesn't have to be at the same time. Except for certain holidays, maybe. It doesn't even have to be equal. I want to spoil you."

"This was really expensive."

"Yeah..." For the first time since he'd asked Haru if he liked the fish, Makoto looked embarrassed. He scratched the side of his cheek. "I guess I won't be able to buy you anything else for a while. Sorry."

Haru pushed the top of the bag down until he could look his gift in its smiling face. He rattled the pupils. "This is all I need," he declared.

After they'd returned to Haru's apartment, Haru pulled his 'boyfriend' into his entryway and gave him and Gigi-chan a three-way hug, prompting a squeak of surprise from Makoto. "I really like the gift," he told his taller friend, his nose pressed to Makoto's neck. After walking outside for hours, Makoto's scent was mixed with dampness and air conditioning and dust. It was still nice, though, because it reminded Haru of their day together.

"I'm so glad." Makoto kissed him on the lips -- then immediately jumped back. "Sorry! I was distracted, and I just..." He trailed off, his face red.

Haru told himself firmly not to wipe his mouth or flinch in any way. Makoto hadn't meant to do it. There was no point to making him feel bad about it. He set Gigi-chan down so that they were face to face with nothing between them, like usual. "It's okay."

Makoto's blush didn't abate, but he didn't apologize again or try to leave. Staring down at his feet, he said, hesitantly, "Was this okay? Would you like to do it again?"

It had been a pleasant day. Spending time with Makoto was always nice. Haru still wasn't quite convinced how different a 'date' was from any other outing with his friend, but he had liked it. "Sure."

Later that night, Makoto sent him a text: { _I had a great time today, Haru. See you tomorrow._ } Aside from the heart emoji at the end of it, it was exactly what Makoto would normally have said.

For the better part of ten minutes, Haru stared at his phone, tapping the screen every time it went dim from lack of activity. Finally, he replied as he usually did: a single smiley emoji, the first, most standard one. Makoto didn't reply, which was also normal. Relieved, Haru began pulling out his books to study for his quiz the next day.

After a few minutes, he picked up his phone again, copied and pasted Makoto's heart emoji, and texted it back.

***

For Makoto's birthday, Haru baked a double layered chocolate cake with vanilla mint frosting and rainbow sprinkles -- and no fish. It seemed a waste of a homemade cake, but being a good boyfriend meant giving the other person what he wanted. (Unfortunately, he hadn't gotten a fish-flavored cake for his own birthday either, but he couldn't expect Jun and Hikaru to make one, and he generally didn't encourage Makoto to bake.)

Being a good (boy)friend also meant inviting the people Makoto liked.

That was all right. Haru had grown used to Shuuji, and the rest of Makoto's group ranged from tolerable to interesting.

They met up at a karaoke place, because Makoto liked to sing. Haru liked karaoke better than clubs or restaurants, anyway. The enclosed room with people he knew was more comfortable than open spaces surrounded by strangers. In a karaoke room, it was normal for him to sit back and watch whoever was singing, and in a large group, people only rarely bothered him about not singing, himself. Holding any conversation was a bit difficult due to the noise and the dim lighting, but as far as Haru was concerned, that was a plus.

Soon after the last of them had arrived, Takumi cued The Happy Birthday Song on the karaoke machine, and they all sang together while Makoto sat in the middle with a colorful conical hat perched on his head. When the song started over again and everyone enthusiastically sang along for a second round, louder than before, Makoto begged them to stop. He was laughing, however, his eyes crinkled instead of open and tight like they'd be if he were genuinely uncomfortable, so Haru didn't step in. He even dutifully banged two paper plates together to the beat after Shuuji handed them to him.

There were no candles allowed in the room, but Makoto mimed blowing anyway, to their applause. Then he cut the cake, and they crowded around in a chaotic assembly line of paper plates and plastic forks, before spreading out across the couches to eat. Haru watched closely as Makoto took his first bite.

"Oh! Oh, wow!" Makoto shrugged his shoulders up and squinched his eyes closed in delight. He licked first his lips and then the fork. "Oh, Haru, you really outdid yourself!"

"Save your orgasms for when you're alone, please. You're making the rest of us jealous," Shuuji said, dryly. While everyone else laughed, Ichirou said something in Shuuji's ear and then kissed him at considerable length. Makoto blushed red -- but he continued eating the cake regardless, and he pronounced it delicious.

Someone ordered a round of beers, and the party got started in earnest.

It seemed like a safe environment, and Haru didn't plan to drink, so he allowed Makoto to indulge. He wasn't prepared for how the rest of the group would react.

"Mommy let you off the leash?"

"Ohhh, how are you going to thank your boyfriend later?"

It wasn't until Haru told them off firmly that the teasing stopped. Makoto let his friends get away with too much.

It turned out that Makoto was the youngest of the group. Throughout the night, several people made jokes about 'Makoto-chan' finally growing up. Makoto took the jokes with a happy grin and no hint of discomfort. It occurred to Haru that ever since the twins had been born, Makoto had had to be in the responsible older brother role. Maybe he liked being the 'baby' sometimes.

As Haru was contemplating this, he suddenly found Makoto looking right at him, his green eyes catching the faint light from the overhead spots. "Will you sing with me, Haru?"

Makoto's friends were extremely loud and unfailingly direct. Haru wasn't sure if he wanted to open himself up to their criticisms, as well-meaning and unserious as they would be. As he hesitated, however, Makoto looked back down at the songbook he was holding, his gentle smile never waning. Haru knew he was about to tell Haru it was okay -- and he would truly mean it. "Yes," Haru said, and he was gratified to see Makoto's awed pleasure at his simple answer.

Spoiling Makoto was easy to do. The smallest things made him happy.

Haru picked a pop song that had been popular when they were in second year of high school. He'd heard it enough times on radios and at his friends' houses that he mostly had it memorized. It was nice, nostalgic, even, to sing with Makoto, and he agreed to a second song.

Proving that he did have a malicious streak, Makoto picked a tricky song that caused Haru to glare in concentration at the screen. Beside him, Makoto sang in full voice and danced, even doing the rap interlude perfectly while Haru stood in mute confusion. Everyone else sang along with varying skill and did melodramatic poses in what was probably an imitation of the music video.

Finishing with a flourish, Makoto laughed in the wild way that he only did when with Shuuji and his friends. The microphone amplified the sound and bounced it off the walls, filling Haru's ears. "You did great, Haru! Nobody gets that one right the first time, but you did the third chorus almost all the way through." Makoto's eyes shone and his color was up, not a blush this time but a flush of excitement.

People clapped Haru on the back and teased him good-naturedly. Haru realized that Makoto had sprung this challenge on him in part to bring him closer to the group. He looked around at the smiling faces around him and ducked his head, pleased.

When the night ended, shortly before the last trains, Haru, making a snap decision, told Makoto to come with him instead of going their separate ways home. Makoto, his eyes alternating between flitting curiously about and going unfocused with his imagination, followed Haru to a convenience store. Haru felt that intrigued gaze on him as he scanned the shelves. Luckily, he found a pack of birthday candles, along with a lighter, and then he picked a ready-made lemon cupcake from the baked goods section.

Makoto, on to his plan now, smiled eagerly.

They sat next to each other at the curb in front of the FamilyMart. Haru prepared the pseudo-birthday cake, balancing it in his lap, before he handed it over. Makoto held it up and studied it closely at eye-level, as if it were a rare work of art rather than a cheap, probably nearly day-old foodstuff.

Backlit by the fluorescents from the store, and with the candle illuminating his face, Makoto looked like he was standing in a doorway between two different worlds: light and dark, city and seaside, hopeful and melancholy, child and adult.

Makoto was now twenty years old, a full adult and finally a 'normal' person, just like Haru had been since the end of June. After twenty, age milestones became fuzzy and more or less optional. He and Makoto were now of the same status and would remain so. Haru liked that thought immensely.

"I wish..." Makoto looked straight into Haru's eyes and smiled. Then he blew out the candle.

They split the cupcake in half and ate it with their hands. Escaped crumbs from the dry cake tumbled down. They brushed themselves off, Makoto giggling, still tipsy, and then they deliberated how to get home, now that the subway had shut down for the night. A cab seemed like an unnecessary expense after already having had a night out.

"We could just walk," Makoto suggested. Haru assented. They had their coats, and it wasn't even winter yet. Coming from Iwatobi, they were used to half-hour or longer walks in colder weather than this.

Makoto checked his watch. "If we go that way," he said, pointing, "we could reach the fish market just as they're opening." He laughed at Haru's reaction.

The easiest way to make Makoto happy, Haru had found, was to be happy himself.

They set off on their urban adventure.

Haru had never been out in Tokyo this late before. He was surprised to see many vehicles on the streets as well as more than a few other people -- lone, fast-walking, well-dressed men and the occasional woman who were probably late-night commuters, as well as groups of friends or coworkers who had obviously come from someplace similar to where Haru and Makoto had just been.

Twenty minutes into their walk, in the darkness between lit shops and the quiet between passing strangers, Makoto leaned over and kissed Haru on the side of his head over his hair, like a quick nuzzle. Although he still smelled of the heady, acidic aroma of beer, he seemed sober, his eyes focused and his words quiet and clear. "This is the best birthday ever. Thank you, Haru-chan." Automatically, Haru started to grumble about the -chan added to his name.

He decided at the last moment not to.

***

The first Sunday after Makoto's birthday party, Shuuji joined them for lunch at a hot pot place.

By the time Haru arrived, the other two were already seated and conversing heatedly. He stopped in the doorway, a sense of foreboding coming over him. He might even have left, and texted Makoto with an excuse, except that Shuuji caught sight of him and waved him over, after which Makoto did the same. Sighing, Haru decided to get it over with.

"What?" he said, as soon as the waiter had taken his seafood combo order and left. Shuuji, ignoring his already steaming pot, raised both eyebrows and didn't speak. Haru turned to Makoto. "You told him," he deduced. "Why?" He wasn't angry about it, just curious, maybe a little confused. When they had started this experiment a little over a week ago, Makoto had seemed avid to keep it a secret. Since explaining it would have been a complication that Haru didn't feel either of them needed, he had agreed.

"He guessed." Makoto sighed and glanced at Shuuji. "I'm not a good liar. I'm sorry, Haru."

"You were acting weird," Shuuji said defensively.

Worried that he had missed something so important, Haru gave Makoto a questioning look. "You were?" 

Makoto replied with a helpless expression, his eyes wide, mouth minutely upturned, shoulders shrugging slightly. "I didn't think I was."

"He wasn't acting weird," Haru said confidently and accusingly to Shuuji.

"Hey, whoa, no need to get so defensive. This protective boyfriend thing you've got going is a bit much, don't you think?"

Haru scowled at Shuuji's knowing smirk. He'd forgotten how annoyingly persistent he was in thinking that Haru and Makoto had been together as a couple all along. Shuuji had been on his case regarding this topic since almost the first time they'd met. "I wasn't his boyfriend until last week, and it's only for a month."

For some reason, Shuuji shot Makoto a look, but Makoto was busy dumping his plate of various fish cakes and styles of tofu into his pot. Shuuji rolled his eyes. "Makoto."

Makoto groaned and tapped his chopsticks on the plate to knock a sticky bit of konyaku in. "Yes, it's only for a month. I know it sounds weird, but there's nothing wrong with it as long as we both agree, right? Is this really worth discussing?"

Everything Makoto had said was what Haru had been thinking himself, yet he abruptly had the notion that there _was_ something weird going on. Uneasily, Haru was reminded of what Makoto had said to him at another time the three of them were together: _"You haven't missed anything, okay? Everything's fine."_

"I just think that fake-dating is a _little_ bit like real-dating. This will change things between you two, won't it? What do you think, Haru?"

Caught off-footed by the question, Haru found himself considering it seriously. The biggest difference was probably that they would remain friends throughout. Any normal relationship that broke up after a month was probably due to some immediately obvious and fundamental difference. In that sense, their arrangement was ideal. Another significant difference was that, since they wouldn't have the possibility of becoming a permanent couple, they wouldn't need to plan for the future together like Makoto had explained. Makoto had even promised him that he would leave their 'relationship' if a better prospect came up, so Haru wasn't worried about that.

"Nothing's going to change," Makoto replied in his place, before he had properly finished thinking it through. Some part of him was vaguely annoyed at the interruption, even as he was relieved to hear how Makoto agreed with him. "We won't stop being best friends because of this silly thing that doesn't even count. Anyway, are you planning to go home to Nara for New Year's this year, or will your mother visit?"

The waitress returned then with Haru's order, interrupting any reply. After she left, Shuuji sat forward and said, "There's one thing I still don't get."

Makoto groaned theatrically. "Really, Shuuji."

Shuuji, ignoring Makoto, directed his attention to Haru. "So, you two want to try out a relationship, or whatever. But you're not gay, right? Isn't it a little bit funny to be dating -- excuse me -- fake-dating your male friend? You're not freaking out even a little bit about being in a gay relationship all of a sudden?"

Haru didn't deign to answer. This entire conversation was getting tiresome.

"Well?"

Haru didn't understand why Shuuji was being so hardheaded about this. "You're really interested in my sex life."

"Shuuji." Makoto reached across to put a hand on Shuuji's wrist, quelling an imminent outburst.

Makoto's hand drew Haru's attention. Makoto had big hands that covered half of Shuuji's own. When Shuuji started to say something again, Makoto squeezed him, once.

The sight irritated Haru, for some reason, and the next thing he knew, he was saying, "I'm bisexual." He scowled, partly at himself, and picked up a piece of halibut to put into his pot. "Probably. It's not important," he appended testily. He was aware of Makoto gaping at him. Telling his friends was one thing. Shuuji was... The boy made Makoto happy, and Haru liked him well enough. He didn't know why Shuuji had been able to provoke him into such a statement. Haru absolutely hated being put in a box or told what he was or what he should do. He raised his eyes in challenge. "Do you have a problem with it?"

Shuuji's face twisted a bit, wavering between expressions that might be amusement, disgust, or maybe just surprise. Emotional people like him were both easier and harder to read. "I don't have a problem with bisexual people. Of course not." He rallied. "So, you're attracted to men? Are you attracted to Makoto?"

"None of your business." Simultaneously, he heard a sharp intake of breath from beside him. "Makoto, are you okay?"

Makoto was coughing and his ear tips had gone alarmingly red. He was fanning his open mouth. Makoto, for all his unearthly patience with people, had a bad habit of biting into tofu before the inside had cooled.

"I'll get you some water." He was glad for the excuse to leave the conversation.

Hot pot places always had ice water available, and Haru was quickly able to procure a glass from the counter. He poured another one for himself while he was there, then begrudgingly a third for Shuuji.

When he returned, balancing the three glasses in his hands, he heard Shuuji say, "--good sign!" Makoto, seeing Haru, shushed him. Haru didn't think it'd be worth it to ask what they were gossiping about behind his back. If he should know about it, Makoto would tell him. He slammed the glasses down pointedly and reseated himself.

Thankfully, for the rest of the meal, they stuck to innocuous topics.

***

People talked about relationships all the time. Haru didn't make it a habit to care about what other people thought of him, but he had to admit he felt left out sometimes. Lots of things about normal social interactions annoyed and mystified him, but romance and relationships and _sex_ seemed to be something that entirely swallowed people's lives after a certain age. He was thankful that his friends hadn't been like that in high school -- probably, in retrospect, because they'd had swimming to obsess over instead. Now that it was encroaching on their lives as well, however, it was making that irritating, angry feeling in Haru worse.

He'd thought that if he could just see what all the fuss was about, first hand, then he'd have a frame of reference for what everyone else was saying. For why Makoto had put himself through so much hurt. Why Hikaru had left them, and why Jun thought that was both natural and inevitable. Why Nagisa was nervous and confused. Why even Rei felt the need to take time out of his studies to play-act a relationship.

Anyway, more time with Makoto could never be a bad thing. And maybe this fake-dating really would help take Makoto's mind off of his breakup with that bastard. His friend hadn't dated since Watanabe broke his heart, and even though Makoto said that he was happy with the way things were now, Haru worried that Makoto had passively given up. Reminding him of how nice dating was might motivate him to find a real lifelong partner, one he could build that future with.

He imagined it sometimes, Makoto contentedly in love with someone as kind as himself, someone who could make him smile the way he had in the very early days of dating that bastard, someone who deserved the gentle, generous soul that was Haru's best friend. Makoto would have beautiful, rambunctious, slightly spoiled children. He'd have flowers in his yard and maybe a pet cat or two. Haru would live nearby, and he would visit often, and Makoto and maybe Makoto's partner and children, too, would swim with him. He couldn't imagine anything more perfect.

If 'dating' Makoto could help bring that about, at the same time as helping Haru sort out his own feelings, it was just sensible, right?

After Shuuji brought it up, however, he was less sure whether all this was a good idea.

Certainly, he could see that Makoto was rather invested in this experiment. It hadn't escaped Haru's attention that, just like when they had had sex, Makoto was much more concerned about Haru's enjoyment than his own feelings. Makoto had insisted to Haru that he wasn't doing this just for Haru's benefit -- that it would be fun for him and he thought it would help him forget Watanabe -- but Haru knew that his soft-hearted friend wasn't above leaving out bits of the truth for other people's good.

Even knowing all that, Haru had agreed. He had figured that, at worst, he would have wasted a month of Makoto's time. It was no real harm done, surely.

Was he reading his friend correctly, or was he simply being selfish?

***

Their second date was a meal of assorted sushi by the Bay. During their late night, or, more accurately, early morning fish market adventure, they'd discovered several excellent yet affordable restaurants where the fare was as fresh as any in Iwatobi. (Though, in Haru's admittedly biased opinion, the quality couldn't quite compare.)

Such an outing wasn't unlike anything they would have done before they'd started 'dating'. More savvy now, however, Haru was determined to be prepared this time. Makoto liked fish, but Haru didn't think he'd appreciate raw seafood, no matter how fresh, as a gift. Especially since Haru would likely wind up cooking it for him and subsequently eating half of it, it didn't seem fair.

After an afternoon of wandering around the myriad shops near his university, he finally settled on a stamped leather bracelet. It was maybe a little too cute for Makoto's age, with smiling orcas cavorting around it, but it was a suitably masculine dark color, and the well-wrought clasp, shaped like a stylized wave, offset the fanciful look of the design. In any case, it was similar to the one that Makoto had picked out at a festival once, so he could be reasonably sure that Makoto wouldn't hate it.

Haru knew he wasn't the best judge of jewelry. He found dangling things around his neck and wrist bothersome and so rarely wore any himself. Despite that, one corner of Haru's clothes drawer was littered with bits of jewelry that had been given to him. Nagisa collected and gifted Iwatobi-chan and other mascot rings and pendants. Rin had bought them all charm bracelets from Australia shortly after he'd returned there. The only piece that Haru had bought for himself was the one he got when Makoto had bought his leather bracelet and Haru had decided on a whim to get one, too.

Watanabe had used to buy Makoto jewelry. Makoto even still wore some of it occasionally, which Haru couldn't understand but never commented on. It pleased Haru to imagine Makoto wearing this in replacement.

He could imagine Makoto's expression when he opened it -- his blush, his slightly widened eyes, his soft smile just on the edge of showing teeth. That is, if Makoto actually liked it. If he didn't, his smile would be a bit strained at the corners and his blush redder.

Haru hoped it would be the former.

Annoyed at how anxious he was, he stuffed the blue and gold striped gift bag into his pack and was determined to think no more about it for now. Either Makoto would like it, or he wouldn't. There was nothing to be done about it now. He hated buying gifts for people for exactly this reason. It always made him nervous. Rin's first birthday back in Iwatobi with them had caused him to drag Makoto all over town, both of them still unsure what exactly their relationship with their childhood friend had become, and extra sensitive to the fact that the little boy who had liked sharks and the color red had grown up into a near-stranger.

Makoto arrived a few minutes late to the restaurant, apologizing profusely about missing the earlier train.

"I only just got here myself," Haru assured him.

Makoto chuckled behind his hand.

"What?"

"Do you remember, when Nagisa said that was the proper thing for a good boyfriend to say?"

"I really did just get here," Haru grumbled, but he wasn't actually upset by the joke. He did remember that. It'd been at the same festival where he'd finally realized that he wanted to be a true team with the other members of the Iwatobi Swim Club. The memory made him happy. It seemed a minor miracle that they were all still friends, despite being physically separated, and he was glad for it.

Lunch, as expected, was delicious. Afterwards, they took a walk along the docks.

By this time, the bustle of the morning market had closed down, leaving patches of cleared ground where only a couple of hours ago, aproned people with dark, weathered faces and cleavers in hand had hawked their wares. None of the trucks that drove by now stopped to open their refrigerated doors for rubber-booted workers to kick frozen slabs of tuna off onto carts. No wheelbarrows rolled down the street, filled to the brim with ice and the catch of the day, steered by youths with hair pinned back and fingerless gloves on their calloused hands. A few scattered men and women washed down tarps and dumped out tubs of ice at the drains, and that was all. It was like magic.

It was like home.

The smell of the salt air was refreshingly reminiscent of Iwatobi. Even the lingering odor of fish guts, tar, and rotting debris was familiar, as well as the accompaniment of creaking boats and scrapping seagulls. There were no waves lapping the cement quays in the shelter of the bay, but seeing the water was enough.

Even with 24/7 access to his university's pool, Haru was suddenly filled with the urge to dive into that water and feel its natural, living embrace on his skin. Only two things stopped him: one, the water here was heavily polluted with gasoline, seafood remains, and litter, and two, Makoto.

Without him realizing, Makoto's hand had clamped around his wrist.

When he met eyes with his captor, Makoto was smiling knowingly. There was a little more black in the center of Makoto's translucent green eyes than he would have expected in the early afternoon sunlight. Makoto was amused.

"I wasn't going to," he said, both of them knowing it was, at best, half a lie.

"I'm not taking the chance. It's nearly winter, Haru! And if I have to jump in after you, neither of us will have anything dry to wear until we get home."

He looked Makoto up and down, noting his collared shirt under a soft, pale green sweater, the fuzzy kind that needed to be washed by hand. He looked tidy and grown up. Makoto had made an effort to dress up for this, Haru realized, very belatedly.

Well, of course he had. This was a date. Everyone tried to look their best on a date.

Makoto's physical appearance wasn't something Haru thought about much. Makoto was so much a permanent fixture in his life that he'd simply stopped noticing. Other than indications of health and mood, what his friend looked like was very low on Haru's priorities.

He didn't normally think about how _anyone_ looked, really, since it was generally irrelevant. Taller people tended to get better times in the pool, but on the other hand, shorter, muscular people with big hands and longer fingers and toes could, too. Tight, smooth swimwear provided less water resistance, but loose shorts were more comfortable and easier to remove. Outside of sports, it made even less sense to worry about your body or your clothes. Haru understood that there was a fashion industry, and he could appreciate the aesthetics of a well-put-together outfit, but for the most part, he didn't feel the need to either participate or spectate in that field.

None of that was an excuse for the fact that Haru was a terrible boyfriend.

"Makoto."

"Hm?"

He dropped his gaze to the ground, not quite willing to meet Makoto's slightly crinkled eyes. Makoto was wearing jeans, but with loafers, not his usual beat-up sneakers. "You look nice," he said. When there was no response, he finally looked up.

Makoto's mouth sagged open. A bright blush burst across his face like it'd been painted there. "Oh!" he gasped.

Haru shifted from foot to foot, uncertain if he'd done the right thing. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Yes! I'm fine!" Makoto's shout attracted curious attention from the scattered people on the street and a family waiting for a table outside a restaurant. Makoto clapped a hand over his mouth, then mumbled behind it, "Thanks, Haru."

Reassured that Makoto was only exhibiting his characteristic shyness of compliments, Haru followed, "I'm sorry I didn't dress up, too. You look handsome."

It was Makoto's turn to avert his gaze.

Aware of their audience, Haru nudged Makoto's shoulder. "Let's go."

Makoto nodded, his face remaining studiously turned down.

There was always a little part of Haru that felt gleeful when he managed to embarrass Makoto into stammering or silence, whether on purpose or no. He couldn't help but feel amused as he led the way back toward the subway.

***

Haru and Makoto wound up playing games at an arcade for the rest of the afternoon, then had pizza for dinner. That reminded them of Coach Sasabe, which prompted an hour of Makoto video chatting with Nagisa, first about the latest news from their former swimming coach and from the current Iwatobi Swim Club, and then about sundry other things, with Haru playing the role of audience and dispassionate commentator.

It wasn't until Haru got home that he realized he'd forgotten to give Makoto his present.

For a minute, he considered leaving it until the next time they met. With Makoto putting so much effort into this 'relationship', however, he felt it was wrong to be anything less than as devoted a 'boyfriend' as he could be.

After some thought, Haru changed into the dress shirt he had for formal events with his team or with his parents. As long as he was wearing that, he put on slacks and took out his nicer shoes. Throwing on his down jacket over his outfit, he headed to Makoto's place.

Makoto was understandably surprised to see him again so soon and without warning, but he welcomed Haru inside. While Haru removed his shoes, Makoto got out mugs from the kitchen cabinet adjoining the entryway. "Tea?" Makoto had the heater on, but he kept his thermostat low to save electricity. His eyes widened and he set the mugs down slowly when Haru unzipped his jacket in the relative warmth. He looked Haru over. "Are you going somewhere?"

"No." Haru wasn't sure how to explain why exactly he'd dressed up. _It's only fair_ , sounded childish. So, he didn't explain. He knew Makoto would eventually puzzle it out, or if he didn't, he wouldn't bother Haru about it. "I forgot to give this to you." He unzipped his righthand pocket where he'd secreted the small package and handed it over.

Makoto turned it over in his hands but didn't move to open it. "Why...?

"Boyfriends buy each other things," Haru reminded him.

He'd expected Makoto's blush, but he wasn't expecting Makoto to clutch the bag tightly and take a deep breath.

"Makoto? Are you okay?" he asked for the second time that day. When Makoto didn't answer immediately, he ducked down to see his face -- and was dismayed to see dampness at the corners of Makoto's eyes. "What's wrong?"

Makoto shook his head. "Nothing. Just... Today has been so perfect."

Awkwardly, Haru cast about for a reply. "You haven't opened it yet."

Thankfully, that caused Makoto to chuckle. "I don't have to. I'm just so happy that you thought of me. Oh, Haru. Thank you." He leaned in, stopping halfway for permission. Haru, disconcerted by Makoto's reaction, nevertheless turned his head and lifted forward onto the balls of his feet to facilitate Makoto kissing him on his left cheek.

"You should open it anyway," he said, feeling that if Makoto were going to make a fuss, it might as well be over something he could see.

"Yes, yes, Haru. Here I go." With slow, precise movements, Makoto opened the flap, tearing the paper the least bit necessary. Even as a child, he had always been careful with unwrapping presents. It was a funny habit, because he wasn't the type to save the wrapping paper. He just felt bad tearing it, he'd told Haru once.

Haru waited, with slightly less patience than he normally would. Makoto's out-of-proportion reaction before even seeing the gift had put his nerves on high alert.

"Oh!" Makoto pulled out the bracelet. His face flushed. His eyes widened. The corners of his mouth were relaxed as he turned a smile on Haru. "I love it!"

Relief and gratification flooded Haru. "Good." When someone liked his present, it was always a marvelous feeling. That was especially true with Makoto, who let every hint of happiness show in his expression and body language.

Leaving the gift bag on the kitchen counter, Makoto attempted to put the bracelet on. In his haste, he fumbled and nearly dropped it.

"Here." Haru brushed Makoto's fingers away and put the bracelet on for him. He wished now that he'd paid better attention to how the clasp worked before he'd bought it. He hadn't realized it was the kind that had to be held open and maneuvered into a tiny eyelet on the opposite side before clicking shut, making it difficult to put on, one-handed. When he looked up, Makoto was staring at him. He was biting his lip. "Makoto?"

Makoto looked away. "I love it, Haru."

"It's just a bracelet. You have lots of them."

"But this is a gift from you. It's special."

"You gave me the dolphin when we were little," Haru recalled. Makoto had wanted it, too, but he had given it up for Haru, and Haru had been too naïve and ignorant at the time to protest.

Makoto tilted his head in thought. "Oh, you mean the ITSC keychain? That was so long ago!"

"You do that kind of thing a lot. You should have someone do that for you all the time." Makoto deserved that. "I'm your boyfriend right now. The least I can do is to buy you something you like. When you get a real boyfriend, you should make sure he treats you well, too."

Makoto was back to staring at him. His gaze was uncomfortably intense. Then he shook his head, and he looked more normal again. "You're a wonderful boyfriend, Haru. The best." His face was red, and his smile was strained at the corners.

"What's wrong, Makoto?" Haru decided that something was strange, and he didn't like it. When he thought back, Makoto had been acting off for a while now, though he couldn't quite pinpoint how. He should have said something a long time ago. He should have been paying attention.

"Nothing. Why do you think--?"

" _Tell_ me." He should be nicer about it, but anxiety was making him harsh.

Swallowing visibly, Makoto took two more breaths, three, four. Then he seemed to wilt. "You know all the ways that I feel about you." Haru nodded. That was a given. "But I think you haven't thought about what it all means, together."

Haru frowned. Obediently, he... thought.

Makoto loved him. He worried about Haru's well-being, sometimes over his own. He shared tirelessly in Haru's successes and losses.

Makoto admired him. He often complimented Haru's swimming, but also his cooking and his art and other more minor things. He took opportunities to promote Haru's perceived skills and achievements to others.

Makoto felt safe with him. He thought Haru could protect him from ghosts and demons. He told Haru private, half formed thoughts. He was eternally strong for others, but he let himself rely on Haru.

Makoto was attracted to him. He watched Haru sometimes in an appreciative way. He liked to touch him, and even though he hadn't asked, he'd probably want to have sex with Haru again if given the opportunity.

Makoto wanted to -- had promised that he would -- be with Haru always.

Haru came to his conclusion out loud, sounding it out slowly to make sure he was getting it right. "You're in love with me."

Makoto let out a long breath. "Yes."

Not knowing what to say but sensing the fragility of the moment, Haru clenched his fists and stood absolutely still. "I'm sorry. I didn't notice."

"You weren't supposed to."

He didn't need to ask Makoto why he hadn't said anything earlier. The paralyzing tumult of emotions rushing around Haru's head right now was the reason.

It was a mix of terror and anger and frustration and other less obvious things that Haru had trouble naming. Loneliness, maybe. Helplessness. He hadn't ever thought he'd have to feel these things again when it came to Makoto. It was like third year of high school again, except ten times worse. It was the foundations of everything he knew falling apart within him.

Stupid, stupid Makoto had wanted to spare him this.

But if he was feeling this way, what was Makoto feeling? Had Makoto thought that he could just ignore his feelings and they would disappear? Perhaps. There was a precedent, after all. "Will it go away?" he asked with sudden hope. "Like what you felt before?"

Makoto, understanding, averted his eyes. "I'm not sure that did go away, to be honest." Haru frowned, because he knew that it had. He was tuned to Makoto's feelings, even if he didn't always understand what he was picking up. That jumbled mess of everything that had put Makoto on edge for weeks had left him abruptly after they'd had sex the first time, and the remaining nervous tension had abated after the second. That couldn't be coincidence. Makoto, noting his silent denial, corrected himself. "Or, anyway, we replaced it with a different problem."

"You didn't fall in love with me just because we had sex." That was only stating the obvious. No matter how hedonistic his friend was, at his core, Makoto loved people for the entirety of themselves and for his connection to them. An adorable kitten might catch his attention, but even after it grew up into a rangy, cantankerous stray, it held no less an important place in Makoto's wide heart.

"No," Makoto readily agreed. "I think it just made me realize something I didn't know I wanted. Being that way with you... A relationship never seemed like an option before we had sex-- before I got the chance to hold you. Once I had, it opened a door for me. And then I couldn't shut it."

Haru could tell it wasn't delicacy that caused Makoto to change his wording. He regretted his cruder description earlier. He didn't pay much attention to the multitude of nuances in the human mating dance, but he did understand that there were gradations to sharing bodies with each other, even when the act was the same. To Makoto, fucking, having sex, sleeping together, making love... those were different things. "I..." he began clumsily. "Holding you..." The words felt fake in his mouth.

Makoto smiled at him. His eyes crinkled in amusement, and his mouth was soft and indulgent. "I understand, Haru. You already said, I'm one of just two people you could trust that way, in the whole entire world. That's very special to me."

Haru fell silent, relieved and grateful again for his best friend's understanding of him. "So. Now you feel like you have the option?"

The laughing creases at Makoto's eyes flattened out, and his mouth opened slightly, anxious. "No! I didn't mean I thought you're suddenly 'on the market' or something. This is all in my perverted head."

That was easy to refute. Haru wasn't completely ignorant to how romance generally worked. "You're not perverted. Thinking that way about the person you're in love with is normal, isn't it?"

"M-Maybe. But you're not interested in those things. Isn't it horrible for me to imagine you that way?"

"Why? You're not going to make me do those things."

Makoto sighed a soft laugh. "You trust me so much, Haru. What am I going to do with you?" Makoto looked down at the bracelet on his wrist. He ran his thumb over one of the arching orcas and spoke to it in lieu of Haru. "Well, now you know. I should apologize to you, Haru. I betrayed your trust. I manipulated you into doing this so that I could use you to fulfil my sleazy fantasies."

"Makoto isn't sleazy," he countered automatically.

"Romantic fantasies, then," Makoto amended, with no change at all in his tone. "It was wrong of me. I hope you can forgive me."

Haru hated to see Makoto being down on himself. "I was using you, too. I wanted to know what having a relationship would be like, and I ignored the fact that you were hurting."

"No, you were always completely honest with me. And I wasn't hurting. The past two weeks have been wonderful. Being your boyfriend for even a little while was all that I wanted, Haru. Honestly. It's enough." Makoto turned his wrist over. The wave-shaped clasp that had gone on so clumsily came undone with a quick pop. Makoto rolled the strip of smiling, cheerfully swimming sea mammals off his wrist, re-clasped it, and slid it back into the gift bag, folding the flap closed neatly.

Haru watched the entire procedure, feeling angrier and angrier. He wanted to yell at Makoto and make him put it back on. _Be selfish for once. Be free!_ But he knew it wouldn't help. He said nothing and kept his hands to himself.

"I'm sorry you found out this way. I hope we can go back to being friends like before. I would like that." Makoto looked up, finally. His slightly downturned eyes were pinched in worry.

"Of course." Why did Makoto even ask him that? "This isn't fair," Haru bit out. That sounded petty. He'd meant, it wasn't fair to Makoto.

Fortunately, his friend understood. His mouth relaxed, and his cheeks lifted in a genuine smile. He'd gone back into caring mode, ignoring his own hurts. This was why people took advantage of him. "I'll be okay. It can't be helped, right?"

"How can I fix this?" Even as he said it, he knew it wouldn't be that easy. If love was something you could 'fix', most of those school-age dramas and real-life soap operas that plagued everyone around him would never happen.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Haru. I'm sorry. I really didn't want you to know." Makoto's indulgent expression tightened back into worry. "I know you won't like this, and it's unfair to you, but I think I need a little time alone. It's getting late, anyway. You should go home and get some sleep. I'm sorry I ruined the night for us both."

It was rare that Makoto asked for something for himself, which probably meant that he honestly wanted Haru to leave, yet it also seemed overwhelmingly cruel to abandon him now, after a heartfelt confession like that. Haru grasped for something -- anything -- that might help. "We still have over two weeks."

"Two weeks? Oh." Makoto breathed a quiet laugh, but his face stiffened into something unyielding. "Thank you, Haru, but I'd rather not continue pretending, now that you know. I'm not actually that pathetic."

"We agreed to a month," Haru insisted.

Makoto's thick eyebrows drew together in confusion.

"We agreed!" He didn't know where this stubbornness was coming from, but like being caught in a riptide, he couldn't stop it, just had to follow its flow until he was able to exit its drag. "You were supposed to be the best boyfriend ever. The best boyfriend ever doesn't dump me like this."

Eyebrows forming an upside-down _ha_ , Makoto pressed his lips together. He was upset. "Maybe you don't understand, Haru, but this is hard for me. It's embarrassing, and it _hurts_. I can't immediately act normal around you again as if nothing happened. I just need a little time, okay? I'm not abandoning you. Just a few days, I promise."

The feeling between them was turning into something familiar. This was starting to become their third fight. Haru felt sick. "I'll be better this time," he blurted. "I'll pay better attention to Makoto's feelings. I'll buy you gifts and... and I'll take you to the amusement park and dress up nice."

"Haru, what--"

"I know it's not real, and I can't-- But I'll try to be the best boyfriend for you, Makoto. You deserve that."

"Haru, this is silly. You don't need to pretend."

"I want you to be my boyfriend for the rest of the month. Is that okay? And then we'll stop--" He had to pause to remember the term. "--by mutual agreement. Not like this." Not with an almost-fight, not with Makoto angry at Haru and embarrassed at himself and suffering all alone.

"Not like this," Makoto repeated. He looked dazed. Turning away, he scrubbed his hands over his face. "You shouldn't say things like that to someone who's in love with you."

"I do love you, too," Haru couldn't help but push. "You said it was close enough, right?"

Makoto sighed, the soft, breathy sound turning into a mocking chuckle partway through. "Do you remember every dumb thing I tell you?" When Haru stared, stung, Makoto hurried to say, "I'm saying I'm the dumb one, not you, Haru."

Instantly, his hurt converted to irritation. "You're _not_ dumb."

This time, Makoto's laugh was loud and genuine. He covered it immediately with one fist, his eyes wide like he had surprised himself. "Oh, Haru. I just don't know. You really do love me, don't you?"

"Of course."

Makoto cocked his head to one side and watched Haru wordlessly. Haru returned his gaze. Slowly, Makoto's body language seemed to relax as he cast his eyes minutely over Haru's face. Haru couldn't interpret what Makoto was feeling or what Makoto was reading from himself, but he thought he could safely conclude it was something positive.

With most people, Haru abhorred being stared at, but with the boy he'd known since he was barely a toddler, it was a comfortable constant. He didn't actively like it, but he'd probably be disturbed if it went away. When Makoto looked at him, Haru felt _known_.

Makoto knew him.

"Hm."

Haru looked a question at his friend.

"Let's do it. Finish the month."

A vast weight seemed to leave Haru's chest.

Then Makoto crossed his arms officiously. "I won't go so easy on you this time, Haru. You'll have to be the perfect boyfriend for me."

Haru stared for a moment. He was glad Makoto was feeling better, but this attitude change was hard to process. "Okay."

"You have to take me to the amusement park, like you promised. You have to be _super_ nice to me. You have to text me at least five times every single day. And you have to plan the next two dates, okay? Oh! And I want to tell people, even if it's just temporary."

Haru groaned, only partially for show. He hated noisy, crowded places without water. He hated texting. He hated planning anything, and most of all, he hated being the center of attention and gossip. Makoto knew all that. "All right."

"Then it's a deal! And when we're done..." Makoto leaned in until their foreheads and noses touched. Haru blinked, trying to prevent himself from going cross-eyed. In spite of the absurd perspective, Makoto's voice was low and serious. "No matter what happens, we'll still be friends."

"Yeah."

"Okay, then." Makoto stood back and smiled, though his brow was still pulled together a bit. "Okay." He glanced at his watch. "It's almost nine-thirty. Do you want to stay over tonight?"

Caught off guard, Haru wasn't sure how to answer. Was he supposed to be Haru, who might naturally sleep over at his best friend's apartment? Or was he a 'super nice' boyfriend, who should enthusiastically want to (more than just) sleep with his boyfriend? Haru wasn't at all prepared for the latter, but he had just promised...

Luckily, he was saved by Makoto's quick correction. "Ah, that must have sounded so presumptuous!" Makoto's pale cheeks colored and he flailed his hands. "I just meant on the futon, like usual, Haru." Contrary to what Haru was expecting, however, he didn't duck away or backtrack his offer. "Since we're going to act like a proper couple now, that means that we shouldn't do 'it' until the third date, anyway."

At Haru's incredulous stare, Makoto laughed. He sounded worryingly manic, which he seemed to realize halfway through, stopping on a half-hiccup.

"I'm sorry, Haru. I think I need to get used to the idea. This is kind of crazy, isn't it?"

Haru had to agree, but he steeled himself and took both of Makoto's hands. He was the perfect boyfriend, he reminded himself -- but he still wasn't quite able to meet Makoto's eyes. He was unused to it, because Makoto had never needed that from him. Or, had he? Staring down at their joined hands, he said, "It's going to be all right, Makoto. I promise."

After a silent moment, Makoto shifted to pull Haru into a hug. "Thank you, Haru. You're the best friend ever." His voice was steady again, kind and safe, the way Haru was used to.

Haru didn't know what to say, so he leaned against his friend and closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I went looking for a suitable aquarium mascot, I found the [nekogigi](http://www.arkive.org/nekogigi/pseudobagrus-ichikawai/). It's a catfish endemic to a particular area in Japan and is currently classed as vulnerable, downgraded from endangered in 1996. Japan designated this fish a national monument in 1977 to help preserve it. While it's not quite as colorful in real life as I describe, I thought a properly inspired artist (like the ones who created the Iwatobi and Samezuka mascots) would have enough to work with. :D


	12. Part V: Ichirou, Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Like Makoto had said, change might be uncomfortable but it also brought good things._

Haru had promised Makoto an amusement park, and he aimed to deliver. He didn't plan to be a martyr, however. It had to be a place they would both enjoy.

So it was that on the following Tuesday, Haru convinced Makoto to ditch class and spend the day at Tokyo DisneySea.

Haru had been to amusement parks before, but like everything in Tokyo, it seemed, DisneySea was... more. In almost every way, Tokyo was a more extreme version of everything Haru had experienced up until then. College courses were tougher and training was harder. The night life was wilder. People ate faster, discarded things with less thought, were always leaning toward the next thing.

He found it all rather exhausting, though in small doses, it could be thrilling as well.

Having gotten up early in hopes of catching the park opening, they planned to nap on the train to Chiba but instead pored over information about the park on their phones. Makoto, visibly excited, enthused over whatever new snippet had caught his eye, reading out excerpts of blogs and showing Haru pictures. They'd been in Tokyo for over a year, but while Disneyland and DisneySea were major tourist attractions, neither of them had yet been.

After entering the park, they were immediately transported to a different world. Walking along the Mediterranean Harbor, with its Western style buildings and effusively friendly people, reminded Haru of visiting Australia, except that everyone spoke Japanese, and he wasn't twisted with anxiety over Makoto being angry at him and his own future (or lack thereof). If it weren't for the exorbitant ticket price, Haru would have been content to spend half the day there, exploring the fort and the various shops, riding the watercrafts, and lounging on the bridge.

However, Haru was determined to get their money and time's worth.

As seemed appropriate, 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea was the first ride they tried. The meticulously decorated displays along the line while they waited both amused and impressed them. In Iwatobi, Haru had never considered himself knowledgeable about boats, but even he could see that the props were more vintage movie-style than seaworthy. The ride itself, and indeed the rest of the park, was much the same -- cartoonish in some ways but creatively presented and with appreciatively consistent and immersive design. Even knowing it was all lights and plastic, Haru felt as if he had really traveled under the sea to a mysterious place of danger. An 'electrified' area of the ride even managed to startle Makoto into grabbing the back of his shirt.

From there, they went to a more obviously Disney-themed area, where Makoto spent every other minute gaping at some new detail of décor or a sighting of a 'character'. They took photos with a woman sitting on a fake rock in a mermaid costume and in front of a statue of a blue genie. Haru's parents hadn't bought him Disney merchandise as a child, so he wasn't quite as affected, but even he felt a sense of cheerful nostalgia.

"Oh, just wait until Ran and Ren see these pictures!" Makoto kept exclaiming, but Haru was pretty sure he was just as excited as his siblings would have been if they were here.

For Haru, it was the faux-underwater area, with its combination of nautical themes and fantastical sea life, that appealed to him. Only the unavoidable crowds of people marred the effect, or else he might not have let Makoto drag him away to the next thing so quickly.

Makoto categorically refused to ride the horror-themed historical ride on the haunted elevator, which was too bad. There was too much else to try for Haru to be more than bemused by his friend, though. In fact, there were too many rides and shows and places to explore for them to possibly experience them all.

Towards evening, when they boarded the Indiana Jones ride, a uniformed young lady boarded behind them, causing them to exchange curious glances. Smiling apologetically, she explained that she was there to check the ride for any problems that needed to be addressed, such as dropped hats or damaged set pieces. Then she leaned in conspiratorially and told them, "Did you know? There's a hidden Mickey on this ride," and promised to point it out when they got to it.

Between falling bridges and murderous skeletons, Haru nearly forgot about it, but Makoto whooped in triumph when he was first to spot the cluster of jewels forming the silhouette of the famous mouse.

After they disembarked from the ride together, the woman, having apparently not found anything of note, put her walkie-talkie microphone away and gave them a slight bow of farewell.

Makoto was oddly subdued, lagging at the end of the stream of exiting guests instead of exclaiming over the 'scary' lasers and the realistic animatronics as Haru would have expected. Dusk had given way to night while they'd been inside, and when Makoto stopped and glanced to the side, it took a moment for Haru to recognize the uniformed woman walking past them.

"That was a good ride," Makoto called out, uncharacteristically forward.

Stopping, the woman smiled in response. "Thank you for your cooperation. Sorry for the trouble." She indicated the way back to the main street. "I hope you'll stay for the light parade. It'll be starting in half an hour."

Haru would have simply nodded and left, but Makoto, startling him, took Haru's hand. "Thank you. We will." He stood stiffly and his grip on Haru's tightened to the point that Haru felt some discomfort. Makoto didn't respond to Haru's questioning look.

"Have a good time." Still smiling, the woman looked from one to the other of them, bowed slightly again, and went on her way.

Makoto released Haru immediately and looked away. "I'm sorry. I should have asked."

"It's fine." Haru curled his dropped hand into a loose fist and waited.

"I think she already knew. She-- She seemed nice. And it's dark now."

When Makoto didn't say any more, Haru observed, "You were right. She was nice."

Makoto seemed to understand him. He let out a breath of laughter and put a hand to his chest. "My heart is still beating so fast. I can't believe it."

When it came to displaying their relationship -- whether friendship or this fake-dating business -- Haru had always been more concerned about Makoto's cautious nature rather than his own nearly nonexistent discomfort. Here, they were far away from anyone who knew them, in any case, and Makoto was right; it was dark. However justified or not Makoto's worries might be, they could be safely put away for now.

Gently but insistently, Haru pulled Makoto's hand away from his chest. "Let's go see the parade."

Makoto didn't try to let go again.

***

Coming back from DisneySea, Haru made sure to walk Makoto to his apartment like he thought a good boyfriend ought to.

They'd held hands on the train until they'd entered Tokyo proper, where even the late hour hadn't been enough to overcome Makoto's shyness. After the past few hours, Haru's hand felt suddenly annoyingly empty. When Makoto opened his door, Haru followed him inside and took his friend's hand again.

"Haru?" Makoto didn't pull away, but he tilted his head quizzically. Then he squeezed Haru's hand and lifted it to kiss the knuckles. "Thanks. Today was fantastic." He glanced at the clock on the microwave. "It's late. Would you like to stay over?"

That question again. Its weight ruined what would have been a nice moment. Haru scowled.

As enjoyable as it had been, he was physically and emotionally exhausted by the day. He doubted he could have an orgasm tonight even if he wanted to deal with that mess and exertion. A good boyfriend, however, would at least keep Makoto company, right? He didn't want to be completely useless. "I can watch you masturbate, if you have to, but I don't think I can participate tonight."

Makoto's eyes widened and his face went slack.

Haru rewound what he had said and felt instantly sorry. In his exhaustion, he'd been thoughtlessly crude, speaking as if he believed Makoto were a sex-crazed animal, instead of someone who simply craved closeness with the person he loved. He tried to think of how to save the moment.

Then Makoto's eyes crinkled and he laughed out loud, continuing until he was holding his stomach and trying to catch his breath. "Haru, honestly! No, I wasn't asking for that." He trailed off into chuckles.

Haru, unamused (though relieved that Makoto wasn't angry), scowled harder. "You said, on the third date..." he reminded his 'boyfriend'.

Wiping tears from his eyes, Makoto straightened up. "I did say that, didn't I?" He leaned in and nosed Haru's cheek in a pseudo-kiss. "I'm pretty tired, actually. But if you're okay with it, we could cuddle tonight?"

"Cuddle?"

"Like when we watch movies, only in bed."

That sounded pleasant. Makoto was solid and warm, and he never accidentally put more weight on Haru than was comfortable -- which was a good metaphor for his personality in general. "All right."

"You can use the bathroom first. I'll put our things away." Makoto hummed as he picked up Haru's bag alongside his own. Haru found his good humor conversely irritating.

"Cuddling is pretty normal, right?" He'd seen couples do it in movies, and Makoto had referred to doing it with Watanabe.

"Hm? I think so. Why?"

He found himself dissatisfied with Makoto's answer. Not seeing any reason to make that known, however, Haru went to the bathroom like Makoto had told him to.

As he brushed his teeth and glared disapprovingly at Makoto's inferior bathtub, Haru wondered why Makoto had never asked to cuddle in bed before, earlier in their month of 'dating'. He looked so happy about it, after all, and it wasn't anything unusual or potentially outside of Haru's comfort. Maybe he'd thought Haru wouldn't like it. Maybe he reserved it for after he'd been with someone for longer. Maybe he only did it with real boyfriends.

It occurred to him to wonder, had Makoto eschewed cuddling because he was afraid it would arouse him? Haru, while he didn't seek out conversations about relationships, had heard enough on the peripheries to know that cuddling could be a precursor to more explicitly sexual activities. Makoto had explained that cuddling was a platonic act, that it could be something between friends and siblings, but Makoto was also overly-romantic in some ways. Not to mention, he was unnecessarily protective of Haru when it came to sex.

Makoto had had numerous partners by now, and he seemed comfortable talking about sex or making jokes with his friends, yet around Haru, he still acted as if he were a clumsy, sensitive, vulnerable virgin -- or as if Haru were.

Haru pondered this as he exited the bathroom. Makoto, in loose sleep shorts and a T-shirt, was just plugging in Haru's phone next to his own on the edge of his end table that doubled duty as a nightstand. Their cleaned water bottles were upended in the dish drainer, and their bags were out of the way on the kitchen counter near the entrance. Another set of sleepwear lay on the bed for Haru.

"Good timing," Makoto commented cheerfully, before he took his turn in the bathroom.

After getting changed, instead of getting into bed, Haru went back to the bathroom and stood outside the door, thinking. Sounds of the faucet and the toilet flushing and the slip-slop of a wet facecloth mixed in a domestic pattern. The shower turned on, and Haru waited impatiently, listening to the interminable patter of water on tiles, mixed with snatches of Makoto sighing, singing, and, briefly, talking to himself, before finally finishing up.

When the bathroom door opened again, Makoto checked his step out of the threshold.

"Haru?"

"Can I try kissing again?"

"What?"

"Maybe I'll feel different this time."

"Um." In the dim light of the desk lamp's lowest setting, Haru couldn't tell if Makoto was uncomfortable, upset, or merely embarrassed. He waited. "Okay."

Decisively, Haru took the one step separating them and pressed their mouths together. Makoto made a muffled sound of surprise, but he leaned over a moment later so Haru wouldn't have to stand on tiptoe. He adjusted their angle slightly, too, and rested his hands lightly on Haru's shoulders.

Makoto stroked a thumb over Haru's jawline and moved his lips. They were a little dry, though the damp scent from his shower lingered. The friction of movement across Haru's own lips was strange. Humming softly, Makoto pressed forward and his nose touched Haru's upper cheek. When Haru tentatively opened his mouth, he felt Makoto tongue brush his. Haru's gut twisted, and he jumped back, wiping his mouth to rid it of the weird sensations and the probably imaginary wetness.

"Sorry," he said. He'd probably just made Makoto feel ten times worse than the first time. He looked away from Makoto's face, feeling a churning mix of anger and confusion and guilt. "I'm sorry, Makoto. I shouldn't have done that."

"Haru, no, stop. It's okay. You don't have to apologize."

Makoto, his hands still hovering over where Haru's shoulders had been, swayed toward Haru, then back, as if wanting to touch him but afraid to.

In answer, Haru closed the distance between them, resting his head against his taller friend's shoulder. Sometime over the years, he'd gotten used to the height difference, even though he still thought of himself as Makoto's protector more often than the other way around.

This was not one of those times.

Understanding, Makoto enclosed him in a hug like he wanted.

"I thought maybe, since we'd just brushed our teeth..." Haru sighed, frustrated, even more so because he wasn't certain as to why he was feeling this way.

Makoto hummed in a thoughtful way. He didn't sound surprised or upset. His nurturing personality was a benefit in that respect. It seemed that Haru hadn't hurt him as much as he'd feared. Long fingers combed through his hair, soothing. "Did you want to kiss me?"

Had he? Reluctantly, Haru concluded that he hadn't. "I'm your boyfriend. You like kissing."

"We don't have to do everything I like. Dating isn't any different from being friends, in that way. Thank you for trying."

It seemed stupid to say 'you're welcome' for an action that had caused so much unnecessary fuss. Haru held himself stiffly, not sure what he was supposed to do now.

Makoto nuzzled his cheek with his own. He continued running a hand through Haru's hair and spoke softly and slowly the way he did to wary stray cats or fussing babies. "Just relax, Haru. This isn't anything to do with sex, remember? Pretend I'm Ren."

Haru huffed a laugh. It was possible that in a handful of years, Ren would reach his older brother's height and breadth, but Haru could never mistake the two of them. "I'll try."

"Come on." Haru followed Makoto to the bed, waited as Makoto climbed in first, then squeezed in next to him with his back turned so their knees wouldn't fight. He lifted a bit at Makoto's prompting for Makoto's arm to come under his head. Then he felt Makoto's forehead touch the back of his neck. After some shifting, he felt the weight of Makoto's leg over his thigh. It was a full body hug, like being wrapped in a Makoto sleeping bag. "Comfortable?"

Haru thought a bit. Then he bumped backwards so that Makoto lost enough of his balance to fall half-over Haru's back, bracing his free hand on the bed in front of Haru.

"Haru!" Makoto cried out.

Haru breathed deeply, feeling Makoto's weight on him at the end of each inhale. Makoto on top of him made him feel something he'd never thought he'd want -- anchored. Other people might leave him for all sorts of reasons, but Makoto was his solid point. No matter what he chose to do in his life, he had faith that his best friend would always be there for him to go to when needed.

Maybe having an anchor was part of being able to be free.

Haru ground his head against his makeshift pillow. He scooted up, then back, settling his neck in a better angle. He turned his head into Makoto's arm so his scent was strong. "Now I'm comfortable," he declared. "Are we going to sleep like this?"

"If you like. Sometimes it's not so comfortable after a while, but we can lie here until we fall asleep."

"Okay."

He felt a kiss on the back of his neck that made his hair stand up in a pleasant way. That was replaced by a cooler pressure that was probably Makoto's nose. "Can I touch you a bit? Above the waist."

"Okay." He waited, curious.

Makoto's free hand slid up from Haru's stomach to his chest, over his shirt. He made large, slow circles there, moved down, made circles over Haru's abdomen, moved back up... His nose nuzzled Haru's neck. Haru blinked, feeling steadily groggier, as if he were being hypnotized. It was like being surrounded by sunlight and water at the same time. This must be why all the neighborhood cats clamored to be in Makoto's lap. "Does this feel good?"

Haru grunted an affirmative.

Makoto's enfolded Haru in a warm cocoon of a hug. His breath in Haru's ear began to steady out. "Good night, Haru."

"Mm."

On the edge of sleep, Haru remembered something. Rousing himself with a shake, he reached up enough to grab his phone with a good stretch. The clock in the center of his home screen showed that it was still a few minutes before midnight.

"Haru?" Makoto's muzzy voice asked. "I've set an alarm already. Your first class isn't until 10, right?"

Opening the text app, he shot off a quick message. Makoto's phone buzzed.

"Huh?" Makoto reached for his own phone. "Haru, why?"

Haru handed his phone over his shoulder so Makoto could look at it. He'd sent Makoto a greeting upon waking, and then a few communications from the convenience store where he'd bought his breakfast, and then again when he'd found a table for them while Makoto got their lunch. Later, he'd texted Makoto a photo of the two of them riding the Electric Railway. Four in all. "That makes five," he said, just a little smug.

His smugness intensified when Makoto laughed out loud, barely smothering the tail end of it into Haru's shoulder. "Haru!" his much too socially-conscious friend whisper-shouted in his ear. Dropping his phone, he pushed Haru onto his back and pinned him down with his own weight. "You're such a dummy."

"Aren't you going to reply?" Haru put on a wounded face.

Makoto groaned. He picked up his phone again and typed rapidly on it. When Haru's phone chimed, Makoto held it up for him to see. { _Good night, Haru._ }, the preview of a new text notification said. The words were bracketed by three hearts on either side. "There. Good enough?"

Haru conceded that both of them had done their duties as good boyfriends.

When Makoto started to roll off, Haru held his sleeves. He put his arms around Makoto and, taking his cue from Makoto's earlier ministrations, stroked his back the way he would a cat. He was amused a moment later when Makoto arched like one as well and made contented sighing noises like a human purr. Eventually, Makoto lay his head down next to Haru's on the pillow, his body still half over Haru's, one arm wrapped snugly under Haru's shoulder. Their legs mingled together like unread fortune-telling sticks in a can. Haru continued stroking his boyfriend's back until sleepiness overtook him.

He decided that he liked cuddling.

***

With December came colored lights and aggressive advertisement campaigns and starry-eyed young couples. Small children spoke excitedly on the rain-dampened trains about Mr. Santa and cake and presents and school activities. Working people and students alike became restless, longing for the New Year's break.

It rarely snowed in Tokyo, but it did get cold enough to wear scarves. Makoto favored a blue, white, and yellow one that the twins had bought him last year. Iwatobi colors, they'd said. It was mind-boggling to imagine the two of them being already a scant year and a half from high school. Seeing pictures of them in their junior high uniforms made Haru feel a combination of proud, confused, and queasy. He knew himself well enough to understand that change wasn't something he excelled at.

Shuuji 'casually' referred to Ichirou as his boyfriend one day. Haru wondered if he was supposed to respond, and if maybe he was supposed to already know. While he was still caught in indecision, Makoto let out a yell of delight. "That's great! Wow, how did it happen?"

"I guess Wada figured, if you two hopeless idiots could finally get together as a couple, he had better not miss his chance." Shuuji's dark skin and brash nature didn't tend toward blushes, but he did rub the back of his neck in an abashed manner.

"That was a smart decision." Makoto crossed his arms. "He can't expect a nice catch like you to wait forever."

"Congratulations," Haru told him, sincerely. He wondered how much of a prod he and Makoto had really been -- and he hoped the effect wouldn't crumple after he and Makoto broke up again.

As if reading his mind, Shuuji sighed and said, "I guess there's no way it can last, but... we'll see. We're going to enjoy it while we can. Life's too short to have regrets."

"Ah, wise Mr. Yamashita, thank you for sharing your insight," Makoto teased him. "I really am glad for you," he added, more soberly.

"Thanks."

Like Makoto had said, change might be uncomfortable but it also brought good things. Makoto finally got that assistant coaching position he'd wanted, at a senior center in Katsushika Ward, to start in January. It wasn't working with kids, but it would be teaching experience in the water, and since no senior citizen alive could dislike Makoto, it would probably be the most forgiving environment for him to learn in.

Haru, meanwhile, continued with his training. He'd gotten used to watching the clocks and listening for advice to shave milliseconds off his times, but during the short season it sometimes felt like he was putting in all his effort for the privilege of treading water. Rin assured him that as long as he kept qualifying for races and beating his own records, he was progressing, so Haru had to trust that. Rin might want something different from himself, but he understood how to motivate Haru on an intuitive level that even Makoto sometimes couldn't.

The pool in Berlin had taken his breath away. It hadn't been as sleek and dynamic as the pool in Sydney, but it'd had a sense of history. The scent of the water had reflected the stone and metal around it. Its water had felt alive on his skin. Haru lived in hope of meeting other pools like it and interacting with the people who appreciated them.

Life would go on. There was no helping that. As long as they kept the things that mattered, they would be all right.

***

After the extravaganza that had been DisneySea, Haru decided on something easy for their fourth date. A blind search online for date ideas listed browsing the mall as a suitably low-stress venture that wouldn't cost more than a normal afternoon outing with his friend. Thankfully, Makoto seemed more than amenable to the idea, beaming with fond anticipation.

"What a good idea, Haru. It'll be especially fun with Christmas coming." That hadn't been part of his plan, but he was glad it would add to Makoto's enjoyment.

For two hours, they walked around, enjoying the Christmas decorations, marveling at the window displays, browsing books and toys and household goods. Haru's family didn't celebrate Christmas together, but Makoto picked out some small things for the twins. Haru sighed in admiration at the marvelous two-tiered fountain in the atrium of the high-end fashion area, but his desire not to embarrass his friend -- not to mention, said friend's grip on his bicep -- prevented him from any action. In any case, it would have been too much work to get through the train set and giant toy soldiers surrounding it.

Lunch was taken at the food court, where Makoto ordered a pork cutlet bowl with curry. Haru, sadly on a pre-holiday diet, ordered boiled vegetables, a side of tofu, and a half-order of rice and beef with his mackerel. His coach had an uncanny sense for when one of his charges had the temerity to cheat.

After lunch, they walked through the more mid-range department stores. Haru stopped in front of a clothing store for under-30s.

"See something you like?" Makoto's quizzical look was unsurprising, since Haru wasn't known for clothes-shopping. When his Mom had started urging him to choose his own clothes, he'd generally picked whatever was both closest to the door and most comfortable. Occasionally, he'd borrowed from Makoto when that was more convenient. He knew what he didn't like, however, and as he stepped inside and scanned the displays, he didn't find anything objectionable. Makoto followed him. "Haru?"

"You can pick out an outfit here."

"I don't need clothes right now," Makoto immediately demurred. "Anyway, I just spent money on presents."

"An outfit for me," he clarified. "I'll pay."

"Huh?"

"I promised to dress up for you. This way, you can choose. I'll buy you something you like, too, as a present." Haru had thought his plan quite ingenious, efficiently felling several birds with one stone.

For several seconds, Makoto just stared. Haru thought his blush might set his straw-like hair on fire.

He took the bags from Makoto's lax grip, turned him toward the shelves, and pushed lightly. Makoto went like an obedient child.

That meekness didn't last for long, as Makoto became more and more enamored with the prospect of dressing Haru. Two hours later, Haru was regretting the entire idea when he was trying on yet another shirt with a pair of black jeans that Makoto insisted looked better on him than the ones he already had. He wondered if this was how other people felt when he tried to explain in words how each of his swimsuits was fundamentally different from the others.

In the end, Makoto agonized so long between two shirts -- a white scoop neck with a line of faux buttons that 'accentuated Haru's shoulders' and a sand-colored button-up with blue texture highlights that 'brought out Haru's eyes' -- that Haru simply bought both. The jeans, as well as a white belt, were added alongside the shirts.

For his present, Makoto picked out another of the white shirt, in his size. Not quite meeting Haru's (or the clerk's) eyes, Makoto folded it small and placed it atop the stack of purchases that Haru took to the counter. Afterward, he tucked it away into one of his toy bags and didn't mention it again.

The last time they'd worn matching shirts outside of school and team uniforms was when they were in grade school and their mothers had occasionally bought them the same shirt or hat. Haru had seen 'couples shirts' before, so he knew this was different. Still, the thought pleased him. Maybe in some ways, being a couple was like allowing oneself to be a child again with another person.

***

Rei visited Tokyo in the second week of December, at the start of his university's winter break, to spend a few days with them. By the time Haru and Makoto could be back in Iwatobi after Christmas, Rei would be gone on a family vacation.

Nagisa sent lamentations about papers and in-class exams that he couldn't get out of. The local college didn't stop classes until two days before New Year's. He would just have to wait until Rei returned to Iwatobi. Haru was sorry the four of them wouldn't be in town together.

It was interesting, the ways in which their relationships changed, but in some ways remained exactly the same.

Makoto had class at Rei's arrival time, but Haru was free, so he met their former teammate at Tokyo Main Station, venturing into the labyrinth of connecting tunnels and hallways to where the bullet train terminals were.

When they found each other at the south exit, the taller boy's hair was neatly combed and his eyes were alert behind his signature red-framed glasses. It was only expected for Rei to come off of a two-hour train ride looking neat and presentable. Haru felt a sudden fondness for him. He'd missed Rei.

Busy with his no doubt difficult studies, Rei hadn't been as active online as Nagisa. Despite Haru's antipathy towards digital communication, he found that he was wishing now he could have seen more of his friend. He should probably make a better effort to write more often, himself.

Haru knew not to take his friends for granted anymore. He'd lost Rin and gotten him back, thanks to Rei's extreme generosity. He'd almost lost Nagisa without even knowing why, only the boy's brave decision to fight for his place on the team allowing him to stay. For a few horrible days, Haru had almost been sure he'd lost Makoto, until Rin had brought him back to his senses. Leaving his hometown had highlighted the fact that Haru needed his friends, and they needed each other.

Rei grasped Haru's hand immediately upon seeing him, momentarily startling Haru. Nagisa's outgoing habits must have finally rubbed off on the normally reserved boy. "Haruka-senpai! Thank you for coming to meet me. It seems like such a long time since spring break."

Haru acknowledged this was true for him as well, even as he squeezed Rei's hand back. It didn't feel so strange anymore to smile. Rei wasn't the only one who had become more openly affectionate over the years. "How is Nagoya? Have you gotten used to it there?"

"Yes, thank you."

Haru couldn't read other people as well as he could Makoto, but he thought Rei's laugh looked uneasy. "Is everything all right?"

"Why do you ask?"

Since he couldn't articulate what was bothering him, Haru decided to put it aside for now. Makoto would figure it out later, he was sure, if there was indeed something to figure out. "No reason. Let's go." He led the way to the intracity subway. "Have you talked to Nagisa recently?" As close as the two of them were, this seemed a safe enough question.

"Nagisa-kun?" Rei hesitated. "Oh. Yes." Too late, Haru remembered what Makoto had told him about his and Nagisa's conversation that first night.

Maybe Nagisa had decided to share his feelings after all. Haru hoped it had gone well. When Makoto had come out to Rei, it hadn't gone completely smoothly, Haru remembered. Rei had an undoubtedly kind heart, but his cerebral nature sometimes got in the way. Haru could relate to that to some extent. He often felt that he was missing things or unable to express himself adequately. It wasn't the same situation as Rei's, but he thought it was similar.

He made a mental note to avoid the topic of Nagisa for the time being, and they spent the train ride chatting about classes and their respective adopted cities.

Makoto was waiting for them at Haru's apartment.

He ducked his head when Haru questioned this oddity with a look. "I didn't think I needed to attend seminar today. We mostly just go over the homework anyway, and I've already done most of it. Rei, it's so good to see you!" Quickly, he turned his attention to Rei, escaping Haru's gaze. "Come in. I'll make some tea."

Haru didn't mind that Makoto was speaking as if he lived here, but it was strange. Makoto usually went out of his way not to infringe on other people. Rei seemed to think so, too, as he paused to glance at Haru as if for permission before stepping inside.

Haru's coffee table was set up to receive them. Makoto had prepared tea and plates and napkins and brought a box of the cream puffs from the Shibuya store that filled the station with its delicious sweet smell, causing lines to form for as long as they were open each day. While Makoto filled the teapot with hot water, Haru took out the covered dish of grapes and apples that he'd cut and set aside earlier in the refrigerator.

Perhaps it wasn't particularly strange after all that Makoto would have missed Rei and been eager to meet him, Haru reflected. Makoto had been encouraging and friendly from the start, ready to admire Rei's form and dedication. In return, Rei had been steadfast in his loyalty to the team and his devotion to the sport since he'd joined them. Rei was more single-minded and methodical and, occasionally, unexpectedly impetuous, compared to Makoto, but both were determined to do what was right and would work quietly toward their goals, sometimes surprising those around them. Surely, the two team captains had more in common than one might think.

Makoto set the teapot back on the mat in the center of the coffee table and sat cross-legged across from Rei. When Haru brought the fruit on a plate, Makoto reached up to take it from him. "I've got it, Haru. Here, sit." He indicated the seat next to himself. Haru probably would have picked that seat anyway, but now, like Rei at the doorway, Haru stood still for a moment before complying.

He realized that Makoto was wearing 'their' shirt, which seemed rather pointless, since Haru wasn't wearing his. He wondered if it was simple coincidence, or if Makoto was trying to tell him something.

Ah.

Haru cocked his head at Makoto in an incredulous challenge, but also partly a query. He didn't want to jump to conclusions.

Makoto pushed his shoulders back, attempting to sit straighter, then collapsed back into a slouch. His eyes flicked to Rei, then down to his hands, then back to Haru. He smiled, and his cheeks flushed with color -- guilty. Perhaps apologetic.

"Is everything all right?" Rei looked between them, the teapot in his hands, mid-pour.

Haru picked up Makoto's hand and pulled it to rest on the table. Makoto emitted a single choked gasp, no doubt anticipating what Haru was planning to do -- but he didn't pull away. Haru faced Rei. "Makoto and I are dating."

Rei's mouth opened, forming the shape of 'What?' without sound. He set the teapot down carefully. "I-- I see. Congratulations? Or is it, best of luck? Ah, in any case, I'm happy for you."

"Don't tell anyone else."

"Yes, of course!"

Objective accomplished, Haru removed his hand. "Makoto, you could join us. I think there's enough room if Gigi-chan sleeps on the desk and one of us sleeps with his feet in the kitchen."

Makoto blinked and clutched both hands together in his lap. "But Rei especially asked to sleep here, right? I wouldn't want to make him uncomfortable."

"Oh. No, I..." Rei, his own eyes widening in either surprise or alarm, pushed up his glasses. "I wouldn't mind. I only worried that it would seem... indecent." Rei's blush was about to rival Makoto's. "I wouldn't wish to impugn Makoto-senpai's honor or... something."

"My what?"

"I understand, of course, that you aren't a woman, but there are still... I wouldn't..." He glanced at Haru, the movement stiff and jerky. "Especially since you have a-- a significant other now, I wouldn't want to cause people to think Makoto-senpai is, ah, unvirtuous."

Makoto stared. His deepening blush made it obvious that he was trying to think of a delicate way to inform their bookish lowerclassman that -- as far as Haru understood the term 'virtue' to mean -- he had very little of it left.

In the ensuing silence, Haru looked between the two confused, blushing young men and resisted the urge to sigh out loud. "Did either of you have intentions to spoil anyone's honor?" he asked bluntly. He was treated to both his companions spluttering in disbelief.

"Haru, what on Earth are you saying!"

"Haruka-senpai, I most certainly didn't mean to imply--"

"Everyone's virtue is safe. We're all sleeping here," he said decisively. "No one has to be worried." Or jealous. "Makoto, we can go to your place later -- together -- to get your things. Let's eat."

A stunned silence ensued.

Rei was the first to burst out laughing. "Makoto-senpai, I'm sorry for being silly."

"Oh, me, too."

"I hope I didn't insult you."

"No, not at all. I was only worried about you."

"Here, I have some snacks..."

As it turned out, Rei had brought a small feast for them from Nagoya: red bean jelly cakes that were a delicious blend of traditional and modern, a bag of cat-head-shaped rice crackers that made Haru smile and made Makoto's face light up with amused admiration, and finally a box of green tea chocolates that Makoto almost visibly salivated over. All this lent their reunion a party-like atmosphere that eased any remaining tension.

Refilling the teapot and chatting around a low table felt both nostalgic and fascinatingly adult. Haru could remember his grandmother and his parents entertaining guests this way. It felt good to be part of a steady, predictable history, as if he were being told that everything was just as it should be.

***

Like a quieter and smoother replay of Nagisa's visit, Haru and Makoto took Rei on a tour of Tokyo, treating him to the typical tourist sites, as well as showing him their universities and their favorite spots. Like with Nagisa, Haru invited Rei and Makoto to swim with him at his university. Being in the water with his friends was still one of his favorite things, and he knew it was one of Makoto's as well.

Haru couldn't always be on the same wavelength with other people, but through the water, he felt he could understand them better.

For Nagisa and Makoto, water was chiefly a medium for them to be with their friends, and secondarily, a kind of playground. For Rin, it was a challenge, an opponent, a partner, a tool. For Rei, it was an element of moving art. His constant striving for perfection was what defined how the water interacted with him. Haru had watched the transition when Rei had learned to accept the water's power over him and when it had accepted him in return. Even after his and Makoto's close call in the ocean, Rei had persevered. Haru appreciated that.

Rei's conditioning had suffered in the last year since he'd stopped active training, but his technique had not. His butterfly stroke carved through the water as beautifully as ever. He was even willing to practice his other strokes, despite complaining about how clumsy he thought he looked.

Makoto's backstroke was as smooth and powerful as ever, and his front crawl had also improved. Joining Haru on the training camp seemed to have motivated him to spend more time training, and it showed. Haru heard Rei say as much in an admiring tone. Makoto, laughing, with beads of water running down his face, was one of Haru's favorite things.

Buoyed up by the water and feeling the waves from his friends wash against his body, Haru was content.

It wasn't until dinner of the second day that Rei dropped his bombshell on them.

The conversation had come around to Haru's competition schedule, prompting Makoto to ask what seemed to be a natural question. "Will you be coming to Tokyo for the Pan-Asia Games in February?"

Haru saw Rei hesitate, and some sense made him stiffen in apprehension of Rei's reply.

"I'm afraid not. I'm so sorry I'll miss it." His mouth curved quickly in a smile. "However, I'll look forward to watching the video later. I've calculated the odds of Haruka-senpai placing in at least one event at well over eighty percent."

"That's too bad. But we'll see each other again at Spring Break, right?"

The smile dropped off of Rei's face. "Actually, there is a reason I was eager to come here this week."

Uneasy, Haru exchanged a look with Makoto. "What is it?"

Rei cleared his throat. "This might be the last time we see each other for some time. I'll be going on a trip with my family over New Year's, as you know, and then I'll be transferring to the University of California Santa Barbara in spring."

The words didn't register for a long time, like nonsense syllables heard in a dream. Haru stared, replaying and parsing them in his head.

It was Makoto who spoke first, looking as stunned as himself. "California. In America?"

"I'm sorry for informing you so late. I only just made the final decision last month."

"Oh." Makoto was silent for long seconds, while Rei smiled stiffly and looked between the two of them. Finally, Makoto uttered a distracted sort of chuckle and then smiled enthusiastically. "Sorry, Rei, it's just so surprising. Congratulations! That's wonderful for you. Truly. It's a good school, isn't it?" Haru guessed that Makoto had no more heard of Santa Barbara than he himself had, but if Rei had gone to the trouble of trying to get in, it most certainly must be worth his while.

At this, Rei seemed to recover some of his scholarly aplomb. "Yes, they have one of the top undergraduate physics programs in the world. One of the professors there actually specializes in a field that I'm interested in. They even offer research opportunities for undergraduate students that I'll surely apply to. I think it will be a stimulating environment for improving my academics as well as connections for future career options."

Career options. In America, more likely than not.

"Congratulations," Haru said belatedly, trying to sound encouraging. He couldn't help but ask, "Do they... have swimming?"

"In fact, they do! UC Santa Barbara is right by the ocean and has a robust aquatic sports program. I won't have time to try for the team, unfortunately. However, I'm looking forward to the facilities and the beaches there." He lowered his gaze for a moment. "I'm hoping they'll remind me of home. I've never been that far away alone before."

"You'll do fine, Rei," Makoto assured him immediately.

"I was afraid of applying for the transfer because my English is not ideal. However, I've decided that running away from a dream is illogical. I need to challenge myself. The worst that can happen is that I'll fail and have to come home, and then I'll be not too much worse off than now." His laugh was maybe a tad too hearty to be completely genuine, but Haru could see the real excitement in his alert eyes and cheek-lifting smile. Courage was certainly not something that Ryuugazaki Rei lacked in. Rei was, after all, the boy who had left a sport he had excelled at for years, to splash into a sport that he hadn't even the basics of -- all for the chance at a dream of perfection.

"I'm glad for you, Rei." Haru had been shocked by the news, but only because he hadn't really thought about any of his friends leaving the country, aside from Rin, who had always been a bit of an anomaly. Even leaving Iwatobi had felt like an enormous step for Makoto and nearly inconceivable for himself until after Makoto and Rin had shown him the way.

"I tell myself, since math and physics are universal languages, I should be all right."

"If anyone can do it, you can," Makoto asserted.

Haru agreed. It would be difficult, but Rei's proven tenacity in the face of hard work, even when outmatched, would quickly make up any lost ground.

Makoto asked eager questions and Rei answered with enthusiasm. He had obviously done his research. Haru mostly let their conversation wash over him.

When it came time to send Rei off at Haneda Airport, the mood was subdued yet hopeful. Haru was reminded of the feeling after a competition had ended, when everyone was tired, both joys and disappointments muted by having moved into the past, ready to look forward to the next challenge.

"I'm sure you'll do well, Rei. We'll see you when you come back," Makoto said brightly.

"I'll return for next New Year's."

"That would be great. If Rin can make it, we could have a reunion in Iwatobi. Maybe Sousuke, Ai-kun, and Momo-kun, too."

"That would be nice."

"Good luck in America, Rei." Instead of dwelling on the sinking sensation he felt at the thought of Rei leaving, Haru reminded himself how proud he was of his friend, and how much he wished Rei well.

"Thank you. Good luck to you in February. Makoto-senpai, I hope your new job goes smoothly, and your studies, as well." Rei looked up at the departures board. It was less than half an hour before his boarding time. He shifted as if to go, then paused. "I would like to request something of you." His gaze lingered on the changing locations and times before coming back to Makoto and Haru.

"Yes?" Makoto looked worried.

Rei cleared his throat and pushed up his glasses. "Please, look after Nagisa-kun for me."

"Of course," Makoto replied immediately. "Though I'm sure Nagisa can take care of himself. Don't worry, Rei. He's grown up a lot."

"I have confidence in him. He's more responsible than he presents himself to be, and I'm sure he'll live life to the fullest no matter the circumstances. I only mean... He's been putting on a brave face, but I'm afraid he's quite upset at my pending departure. I just hope he can understand. Even though I can't return-- That is, I will miss him. Truly."

Makoto and Haru exchanged a cautious look. "I'm sure he'll be fine, Rei. You'll be able to keep in touch, just like now, and you'll have so much to talk about, being in a new place and all. Everything will be fine."

"You're right. Our friendship isn't so delicate. No matter what, we're still a team, aren't we?" Rei's eyes were starting to fill with tears even as he smiled.

Makoto put his hand on Rei's shoulder. "That's right."

***

Without needing to consult each other, Makoto pulled out his phone as soon as Rei entered the security checks and was out of sight.

Haru didn't see what exactly he sent, but he read the reply as soon as it came back.

{ _No, I didn't tell him anything. What happened???!!!_ }

Makoto hmmed in indecision, then told Nagisa, { _Rei asked us to 'take care of you' while he's in America, and he said he'll miss you._ }

This time, the reply took longer. Haru and Makoto huddled over Makoto's phone, the bustle of the airport parting around them while they waited.

The answer came in a rapid series.

{ _I have to talk to him. He probably has the wrong idea._ }

{ _Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!_ }

{ _His plane won't arrive for over an hour! What am I going to do?_ }

{ _I'll head out now to meet him._ }

Makoto made a concerned noise and typed back, { _You don't have to do that. You'll just stress out at the airport. It'll be okay, Nagisa. Take a deep breath._ }

{ _You're right. I'll be okay. Definitely._ } This was belied a few seconds later by, { _I have to go. I'll talk to you later!_ }

A third message followed: { _I'm sorry I didn't tell you about America. He said he wanted to tell you himself._ }

Makoto assured him they understood. Nagisa returned a picture of a dancing penguin. When no new text came back, Makoto put his phone away.

Haru and Makoto exchanged a long look.

Makoto eyebrows were slightly raised. He seemed more bemused than worried. Haru, however, felt agitated. Rei's request had bothered him.

"Do you think Rei is leaving because of Nagisa?"

Makoto's eyes widened in genuine astonishment. "No, that doesn't seem logical at all, not something Rei would do. Besides, he must have applied for Santa Barbara months and months ago."

Right. The two had nothing to do with each other. Their situation wasn't a cause, only an uncomfortable complication to Rei's departure. Haru fidgeted, remembering Rei's tears as he reassured them and himself, _"Our friendship isn't so delicate."_

"They'll be all right, then?"

Detecting Haru's appeal for reassurance, Makoto said, "Yes, I think so."

Makoto shot him worried glances on the way to the trains. Haru didn't quite know how to explain his continued unease. He was filled with relief when Makoto suggested that instead of going straight home from Haneda, they stop by Odaiba for dinner.

They had takeout fast food while looking out across the water, where the city lights and burning signs and the gloriously lighted Ferris wheel threw smears of rainbow sparkles over the calm bay. The food was all right, and the company and the view were both excellent, of course, but they didn't settle Haru as much as he'd thought they would.

It wasn't until they were almost ready to head home that Nagisa sent news: { _Everything's great. Thanks, Mako-chan, Haru-chan. I'm staying over at Rei-chan's tonight, whoo! What do you think will happen?_ }

Makoto and he both sighed in relief. They knew better than to take Nagisa's salacious joke at face value, but it did at least mean that their friends were okay.

***

The last day of their 'relationship' arrived in the middle of December.

Haru cooked them dinner -- his best braised mackerel with home-pickled vegetables on the side, paired with a cold chicken salad and daikon miso soup.

"This is wonderful, Haru! Are you all right with your diet?"

"Plenty of protein and vegetables," Haru pointed out. "Don't worry about it."

"Will you still cook for me when we're just friends again?" Makoto's voice was softly teasing.

Just friends.

Haru stared sullenly at his own food as he answered, shortly, "Of course."

"It's been so wonderful being your boyfriend, Haru. Thank you."

Haru continued looking down at his food. Playing the role of boyfriend to Makoto had been... nice. It hadn't felt like something he ought to be thanked for.

They said thanks for their meal and started, Makoto making soft, delighted sounds. He looked truly content. It was completely at odds with how Haru was feeling.

"Makoto."

"Hm?"

"Christmas Eve. It's only two weeks away."

When Haru didn't elaborate, Makoto gently prompted him, "Yes?"

Haru had to take another few moments to arrange his thoughts adequately. "We could extend our dating until then."

Makoto's expression sobered. "Keeping up the pretense on an important date night is a bad idea, don't you think? We shouldn't ruin a good thing. We can spend Christmas Eve with our friends just like normal."

Haru grunted in agreement.

They ate in a silence heavy with uncertainty. Haru hadn't finished his thought, and Makoto, no doubt sensing that, was waiting for him.

"You said people don't have to be in love with each other to date."

If Makoto was surprised by the statement, he didn't show it. "That's true. There's an expectation that you will be, eventually, though. Either that, or you realize you won't fall in love, so then you break up."

Then you break up.

He tried to think of a way to untangle his feelings into meaningful, nice-sounding words. In the end, he gave up, relying on Makoto to understand him. "I don't want to break up."

Makoto knew him like no one else did. Even if he didn't have actual telepathy, as some people joked about, he could often guess what Haru was saying from mere fragments and a look. This time, too, the boy who had watched him, grounded him, and known him since childhood didn't disappoint. "Haru...?" Makoto put down his chopsticks. His mouth parted slightly, then closed as he let out a noiseless breath. "Haru, are you... falling in love with me?"

It was difficult to maintain eye contact when his feelings were so jumbled and flighty, but his best friend (boyfriend? lover?) looked brittle in that instant, his eyes tight and his cheek trembling slightly. Haru couldn't leave him alone at a time like this. He stared straight into Makoto's eyes as he answered, honestly, "I don't know. I think so, maybe."

"I see." Makoto sighed out more than spoke the words.

Neither of them made a sound for a long while. Their chopsticks didn't move.

Haru huffed in frustration. "When you suggested trying this, did you think I might fall in love with you?"

"Oh, no. Never. I mean, I suppose in the back of my mind, I thought that if you did, that would be wonderful. For me. But I wasn't trying to trick you."

That wasn't what Haru had meant. "Did you think it would be impossible?"

Makoto didn't answer for a long time. He stirred his soup without picking up the bowl to drink, and he pressed his lips together.

In his own way, Makoto was careful with his words. He measured them carefully so as not to hurt anyone. When he spoke to Haru, especially, he knew that Haru paid attention and would remember what he said, so he was extra careful. Haru knew that about his friend and appreciated it. People so often said things without meaning and without thought. With Makoto, he felt safe.

"When Nagisa and I were looking on the internet, we read a lot of interesting things. It turns out, romance and sex aren't as linked as we thought. At least, not for everyone." Makoto's tone was cautious. Slow. Nearly dispassionate.

Haru nodded to show he was listening.

"I think that Haru has a lot of love inside him, and I know that Haru loves me. I don't know if what you feel for me is romantic love, but I do think you're capable of falling in love with someone. I'm in love with you, and for me, that means I want to be with you all the time for as long as I can. I want to share everything of myself with you. But most of all, I want you to be happy, and I never want to pressure you into something you don't want. What do you want, Haru?"

"I want you to be happy, too." That had always been true. By now, it was a nearly unconscious desire. After a bit of thought, he added, "I also want to be with you, always."

 _Take care of Makoto for me._ Those weren't words he could ever imagine himself saying to someone else. When he reached for his old dream now -- of watching Makoto from the side, with his happy family -- he felt a sense of dissatisfaction. Hearing Shuuji refer to him and Makoto as a couple, having Rei congratulate them, holding Makoto's hand, cuddling -- all those things would go away once they stopped being boyfriends. Haru didn't want that. He fiercely, absolutely, didn't want that.

The realization made him feel unexplainable, utter panic. It was surreal that he was about to say goodbye to a Makoto that he had only known for one brief month, over mackerel and salad he had cooked himself -- as if he had engineered this whole aggravating situation. He didn't want to think that this was all his own fault.

If he were causing this, however, then it meant that he could stop it.

"I don't want you to date someone else," he found himself blurting.

That was wrong. It had to be. How long had he been trying to get Makoto to date someone else? As he said it, though, he could feel how unquestionably true it was. Makoto was staring at him. He had to explain himself.

"I want--" He cut himself off, repulsed by the words shouting in his head. He had to share them. Makoto deserved to know. Remembering how happy Makoto had looked when he'd said it himself bolstered him as he forged ahead. "I want Makoto to date only me."

Makoto's eyes widened, and he took in a stuttering breath that went on and on without an exhale. Haru was worried Makoto's lungs might explode, before he choked slightly and expelled it all in a whoosh. He put one hand over the bottom half of his face, failing to cover up his blush. "Haru. I can't believe you said that."

Haru's heart was beating fast and hard. He put one hand to his chest, unnerved by his own body and daunted by Makoto's violent reaction. "Don't cry, Makoto."

"I can't help it." Makoto laughed stiltedly instead, which was a slight improvement. "Did you really mean it?"

He tested the words in his head before he spoke them. He had to get them right. "I want us to belong to each other. I want to think about the future together. I want to be boyfriends for real."

"This is like a dream. Oh, I don't know what to do." Makoto wasn't covering his face anymore. His eyes were watery, a single tear tracking down his left cheek. "I want that, too. Yes, let's be boyfriends."

Unable to think of anything at all eloquent, Haru said, "Good."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Heads up! I have unfortunately reached the slow-down that I predicted. The next two parts are going to take longer, perhaps two weeks each. I've had the least amount of time with them, and I want to get everything right. The next chapter will be longer, so hopefully it'll be worth the wait. Thanks so much for sticking with me up till now. Almost there!~~
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> See some Nagoya souvenirs [here](http://jpninfo.com/34803).


	13. Part V: Ichirou, Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru has feelings. Makoto understands.

Society was a many-headed beast. If you plunged into it without preparation, it could rip you apart with sharp, uncaring fangs. It was possible, however, to carve an opening for yourself with the appropriate introduction, some well-placed words, and enough awareness of what other people wanted from you. You could slip into that space and swim through it, unimpeded, gaining friends, fans, a 'good reputation'. What you actually thought and felt were unimportant. If you were skilled at showing what people wanted to see, with your words and your expressions and your actions, you could make them believe you. You could make everyone accept you and acknowledge your existence -- or rather, the existence of the 'you' that you wished them to see. And that was how one could survive in this world.

That was what Haru had used to believe. As a result, he'd been uncomfortable with people, never quite understanding their intentions, exhausted at guessing. Yet he'd 'understood' that was how society functioned. It sounded cynical, but it'd made sense to him that no one wanted to see all the ugly parts of everyone else around them. Hiding your true self while presenting a separate self that was pleasing to others was a kind of politeness. It was a skill that one had to learn to be a proper member of society.

Haru hadn't wanted to learn it. He hadn't wanted to hurt people either. Hurting others with the truth was just as distasteful to him as hurting others with lies. Being hurt by truths was no less painful. Therefore, he had tried to live apart from society. As long as he had the water, he had believed himself to be content.

He hadn't understood anything at all.

Yes, society was a many-headed beast. Some heads were sharp-toothed, some sharp-tongued, some overeager, some reserved, some aloof, some meddling, some brash, some shy, some adventurous, some complacent. Navigating through the sea of people was not about covering yourself up in masks. It was about discerning which true parts of yourself to share with whom, and how. It was about finding the people you could connect with and share the water with, the ones whose differences you could tolerate or even admire, and who could tolerate and admire you. Together, you could make each other's lives richer and full of color. You could see things that you'd never seen before.

And if you were to find someone special whom you wanted to share all of yourself with, you could be brave and carve an opening in yourself. You could show that person not just the parts of yourself you thought he might like, but also your vulnerabilities, your secret thoughts, the things that you treasured. If you let that person peer inside you, and instead of turning away, he entered you and filled you and spread out to touch all the true parts inside of you, then you might be lucky enough to gain his trust in return. What other people thought of you could become unimportant, as long as you had this person to share your life with, as long as you could feel each other, believe each other, never doubt each other. As long as you and this person accepted all of each other and continually acknowledged the existence of each other, that was what mattered.

That, Haru, thought, was what love was.

That was his Makoto.

***

Being Makoto's real boyfriend wasn't much different from being his fake boyfriend.

Makoto still liked to kiss him and touch him when they were in private, though he seemed to have lost the urge to be demonstrative in public. Haru lost count of the times that he looked over at his friend only to see him smiling back, small and secret, before looking away. They went on 'dates', which were mostly just things they would have done as friends, anyway, except for how Makoto would occasionally brush Haru's hand for no reason, then laugh when Haru reacted with either surprise or annoyance. Makoto still had yet to ask for sex, although Haru had noticed him aroused a few times while they were together.

Most days, Makoto stayed over at his place or he at Makoto's, and they spent the evening doing schoolwork or watching TV or reading their separate magazines. Haru still cooked for them and Makoto still looked after them. Instead of the five texts a day that they had exchanged as fake-boyfriends, Makoto was now content with sending sporadic pictures, greetings, and functional messages, much as they'd used to -- though now with liberal use of the annoyingly numerous different heart emojis. Haru's list of Last Used Emojis had changed considerably as well. It was only polite to reply in kind.

Maybe it was more accurate to say that being Makoto's real boyfriend was like being friends as usual with a few extra habits woven in.

It was as if, their relationship having become 'real', Makoto had settled back into the person that Haru had always known. Gone was the submissive pleaser that he'd been when they'd started the month, as well as the determinedly possessive partner that he'd been during the last half of it. They were comfortable with each other again, something that Haru hadn't realized was missing. Haru was immensely satisfied with this result.

He also quite enjoyed the extra benefits of their new relationship. Today, he planned to take full advantage of one of those, while surprising his boyfriend after an exhaustive day of training followed by an evening lecture.

Makoto was fidgety and pink-faced when he opened his apartment door. He was wearing sweatpants, and he had his glasses on, which meant he wasn't planning to go out again. Maybe he felt self-conscious about his appearance... but he should know that Haru wouldn't care.

"Should I go?" Haru asked, even though Makoto had opened the door and greeted him already. Makoto had few boundaries around him, but if he happened to have hit one, he wouldn't push.

"No, of course not. Come in."

Puzzled but not about to turn down the invitation, Haru entered the apartment with an eye out for what could have gotten his friend this way. Makoto's laptop was closed, with no sleep light on. The bathroom door was open and no steam or dampness escaped it. Nothing in the kitchen indicated recent use. No bugs or bug-swatting accessories were in evidence. On the bed, though, the blanket was indented and slightly mussed. "Were you taking a nap?"

"Huh? No." Despite his negative answer, Makoto darted his eyes away, a sure sign of guilt for Haru's sensitive friend. "I was just reading."

Deciding it was none of his business unless Makoto chose to make it so later, Haru ignored this minor mystery and went ahead with what he had come for. He stepped into his boyfriend's space and hugged him around the waist. He heard Makoto gasp softly, and he felt Makoto's wide, comfortable chest expand against his own. The fabric of Makoto's shirt was just rough enough to feel nice on his cheek. He put his nose against Makoto's bony shoulder and sniffed.

"Haru?"

"I want to cuddle."

Makoto stepped back abruptly, causing Haru to stumble. He hadn't realized he'd been leaning his weight on the other boy. Makoto caught his forearms, and they stared at each other, both of them surprised. "Oh, ah. Now's not a good time. I'm sorry, Haru."

The rejection hurt. A lot. Makoto never denied him any form of intimacy. The surprise of it made the rejection all the more potent. It also confused Haru. "Why?" As soon as the word left his mouth, he realized how accusatory that sounded. "You don't have to do anything you don't want," he was quick to add. Now that he wasn't thinking about just himself anymore, Makoto's reaction worried him. "Did something happen today? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, just not in the mood. Let's, um, watch a movie. Or, we could go out for a walk?"

There was a familiarity to the way Makoto was acting, Haru realized. His eagerness wasn't fake, exactly. His smile seemed real. His tone wouldn't be strange, if you didn't know him as well as Haru did. Everything was just... less. Or more. Exaggerated and subdued at the same time.

When he finally remembered when, specifically, he had seen Makoto act this way before, he realized what Makoto might have been doing on the bed and what sort of book (if he had been truthful about that) he had been reading. Relief washed over him. Makoto wasn't hurt or in trouble. Nothing was wrong.

He debated ignoring the situation, as he had the last few times he'd noticed. But he knew how it felt to be denied swimming, and he didn't like to think that Makoto was feeling that way because of him. He didn't mind a slight change in plans.

"I can touch you if you want," he offered. "And then we can do something else after." He knew his bluntness would embarrass Makoto, but he didn't like wasting time, especially time he could be spending with Makoto in a way they both enjoyed.

Groaning, Makoto hid his face in his hands. "Is it that obvious?"

"Probably not to anyone else." He pushed Makoto toward the bed. This wasn't what he'd had in mind when he'd come here, but he could still feel Makoto's body, if not the way he had hoped to, and now he could watch Makoto come. That seemed a reasonable compromise. He found himself looking forward to seeing Makoto like that for a third time. Makoto during sex was a combination of comforting constants and captivating curiosities. Would it be different, having sex as boyfriends?

"W-Wait," Makoto protested even as he let himself be herded. He sat down on the bed with a thump. When Haru sat down beside him, he blocked the front of his pants with his hands. "Haru, wait. I wasn't asking you to do anything with me."

"You weren't. I was. Do you want to?"

"You already know that I do."

"Okay." He reached for Makoto again, but again he was blocked. "Makoto?"

Makoto bit his lip and lowered his eyes. His shoulders bunched and heaved once. Haru realized too late that this wasn't Makoto being embarrassed but Makoto being ashamed. "I'm sorry I'm so dirty, Haru." The apology came out in a rush, like it was something Makoto had been thinking for a long time.

Haru was taken aback. "Sex isn't dirty." _You're not dirty._ "You're attracted to me. It's normal."

"I know, but... I wish I could love you purely, the way you love me."

Haru regarded his friend with exasperated fondness. Ever since childhood, Makoto had worried that he should be something other than what he was -- braver, shorter, more grown up. He had noticed that other kids, too, tried to change themselves in order to fit in or to stand out or for any number of stupid reasons. Haru thought it was all quite ridiculous. It made the least sense for Makoto, who most often tried to change himself to be 'better'. Makoto was already the best person he knew.

"You do love me purely," Haru reminded him. "You just like sex also." When Makoto still looked dubious, he added, "Makoto is Makoto. That's all that matters."

His words seemed to help. The tension left Makoto's shoulders, and he even smiled before he glanced up and took Haru's hand. "Thank you, Haru. You're such a great friend. I can always count on you to like me, no matter what."

Haru snorted. "I don't like you because I'm special somehow. It's because you are."

Blushing, Makoto leaned into Haru, resting his forehead on Haru's shoulder. "I guess there will always be some things I wish were different about myself, but I'm really glad I'm gay, or else I wouldn't have you for my boyfriend."

Haru was briefly disconcerted by the idea. If Makoto were bisexual, or straight, or even asexual, would they not be together? He had to admit that he could easily think of reasons Makoto might fall for someone else, and even more reasons why someone else might fall for Makoto.

A moment later, he dismissed the thought. Makoto loved him, and they were together now. Wondering about what-ifs was neither relevant nor interesting.

"We can cuddle now, if you want," Makoto offered.

Cuddling was what Haru had wanted in the first place. The offer was very tempting. Making a decision, he turned to mirror Makoto and put his face against the other boy's neck. "I'm glad you're gay, too." He nuzzled Makoto's neck and stroked his hand across Makoto's chest over his soft T-shirt. The material caught on his calluses, so he slowed and applied more pressure.

Stiffening, Makoto caught his wrist, halting him. "H-Haru? What are you doing?"

Haru rolled his eyes. "I'm trying to seduce you."

"We don't have to do anything. I know you're not interested in that stuff. We can just cuddle, like you wanted."

Haru scowled. He obviously wasn't doing this right. "How did you seduce the people you slept with before?"

After a few seconds of staring, Makoto answered, hesitantly, "The people I...? I didn't need to... We all knew, so..." Makoto was turning red up to his ears. Haru wondered if he was going to be able to finish his explanation -- or even a sentence.

He took Makoto's hand and stroked the back of it with his thumb the way Makoto sometimes did to him. He waited for Makoto to relax slightly, for his eyes to lose their embarrassed squint and smooth back into contentedness.

Makoto hummed thoughtfully. "I'm not really sure how to explain. I haven't thought about it. Usually, for me, we both feel it and then it just... happens."

Haru was used to thinking of Makoto as the one with all the answers when it came to sex or other social dilemmas. When something confused even Makoto, he typically ignored it as an unsolvable puzzle. That didn't seem like the right course of action here. He scowled, frustrated.

Makoto sighed. "It's hard to figure out, because I want it all the time with you, but I know that you don't like it most of the time. I don't want to pressure you. I don't know how to be with someone who never wants me back." He groaned and shifted, and Haru noticed that his arousal hadn't abated. "Oh!" Makoto looked abashed. "I didn't mean-- It's not as if everyone I want will want to have sex with me, of course."

Haru shrugged. "Makoto is very attractive. Everyone says so."

"What? Who's 'everyone'?"

Haru smiled. He ignored the question. "I like sex with you. I like watching you. I like how it makes you feel. I like that I'm the one making you feel those things."

"But after the first time, have you ever wanted sex just for yourself?"

Haru didn't answer the question -- which he knew was answer enough for Makoto. He scowled. Maybe he was going about this wrong. He and Makoto weren't people who had met at a bar somewhere. "What about Watanabe?" He grimaced at having to say the name. "You were boyfriends. I guess you didn't need to seduce him. How did you decide when to have sex together?"

Makoto frowned, his brows pinching. "I could tell when Tatsuo was in the mood, because he'd be, um, aroused. That doesn't work for us, though, right? It feels wrong when I'm turned on but you aren't. I don't want to do something that you don't want."

Haru blew out a breath. "I would tell you if I didn't want to." When in their friendship had he ever let Makoto do something to him that he didn't want? "Anyway, I'm the one who started it this time, so of course I want it. It doesn't matter if I want it for you or me or whatever, does it?"

Makoto dropped his gaze. "I don't want you to force yourself to do something you don't like just to accommodate me."

"I wouldn't do something like that." He thought about it, and then was forced to amend himself. "At least, if I do that, it'll be my choice, so Makoto shouldn't have to worry about it."

"But of course I would worry, Haru, because it'd be my fault." Makoto continued staring at his open hands in his lap. His downturned eyes were tight at the corners, and his mouth was soft. Pensive, Haru thought was the way to describe him. "Sometimes... A few times," Makoto started haltingly. "I wouldn't feel like it, but Tatsuo would keep going anyway." He must have sensed Haru's reaction, because he hurried to say, "Not like that! He always made sure I felt good. He was a very good lover, really. Just sometimes, at the beginning, he didn't listen to me, and then I would feel like I had to go along with it. I don't want to ever do that to you."

Haru hadn't thought it was possible to hate that bastard any more than he already did, but he was sure giving it a good try. For Makoto's sake, he tamped down his feelings and tried to be comforting instead of angry. As much as he disliked it, Watanabe was still important to Makoto for some reason. The last thing Haru wanted was to have another fight. "Were you ever scared?"

"No." At his suspicious glare, Makoto wilted slightly but said, "Honestly. I never thought Tatsuo would really do anything if I pushed back harder. Mostly, I was annoyed, at him and at myself. He was acting a little inconsiderate, but I felt like I was being a bad boyfriend, too, letting him down. Especially since it always turned out all right in the end, I felt like I was wrong to put him off in the first place."

Hate. Hate. _Hate._

"I know I wasn't actually wrong, Haru. Stop looking at me like that. It just felt that way at the time. It was confusing. It made me all mixed up. I'd never want to make you feel that way."

"You wouldn't do that. You're not like him."

Sighing, Makoto squeezed his hand, as if Haru were the one who needed reassuring. "I know you think very badly of Tatsuo, but it takes two to have a relationship. I didn't do a good job on my end, either. I think maybe I thought he was already better than I was at everything and he didn't need me to take care of him. I didn't place him first, and that was wrong of me."

"He said that he loved you." For Haru, that was what he couldn't get past. If the bastard didn't care for Makoto, he couldn't help that, but how dare he use Makoto like that? He'd tapped into Makoto's weak points, used him, and thrown him away when it suited him.

"He probably thought he did. We don't always automatically know what we're feeling, right?"

Makoto said it with a small, encouraging smile and a slight tilt to his head. Haru glared to show that he didn't appreciate the attempted call for empathy. He and Watanabe were nothing alike. He might not understand his own feelings sometimes, but he didn't hurt people. "He made you feel bad about yourself."

"No. I've thought about it, and I think he just told the truth as he saw it. I chose to believe him. I made myself feel bad, because I wasn't confident enough in myself. If I could have been more his equal--"

"Stop that," he snapped. "It's not your fault. You couldn't have saved the relationship by yourself. That bastard didn't want it. He didn't want _you_."

He regretted his loss of temper immediately. Makoto's eyes had gone glassy, and his face blanked of expression in a completely un-Makoto-like way.

"Makoto?"

"You're right," Makoto said dully. "There was nothing I could have done, because he didn't want me."

"That's not what I meant!" Haru lunged for the box of tissues and pressed two of them into Makoto's unresisting hands. "He didn't know to cherish a good thing, because he wasn't any good, himself. All he knew was that you made him look bad. He didn't know to be happy with you the way anyone else would be."

Makoto looked stunned anew. "He wasn't happy with me," he said, in a tone of discovery. He wadded the tissues together in one tight fist. "I thought he was so far above me, I couldn't possibly affect him. I was so focused on wondering why he didn't want me anymore. It never occurred to me that all along, I was hurting him, too."

"You weren't hurting him." The idea of Makoto hurting anyone was ludicrous.

"I was, though, even if I didn't mean to. Why didn't I think of that before? I never noticed while we were together. He must have felt so alone. Oh, he must _hate_ me."

Covering his mouth, Makoto stared into the distance. His face was tense with what Haru might have thought was physical pain. Moisture gathered at the corners of his eyes. Makoto blinked, and the tears spilled over. Haru waited anxiously for him to reach out, but Makoto just took ragged breaths beside him, not moving. Clumsily, Haru put his arms around him.

"It's all right, Makoto."

As if spurred by his voice, Makoto pushed away, head ducked in embarrassment. He wiped his face hastily, as if Haru might forget what had just happened if only he could clean up quickly enough. His gaze alert again, he focused on Haru and even tried to smile. "I'm fine. I'm sorry. I just feel so stupid. I never even thought about these things, when of course Haru knew all along. Tatsuo must have thought I was so selfish and self-absorbed, like those first-year students he used to complain about. I really am hopeless, aren't I?"

Determined to remain undeterred, Haru put his arms back around his childhood friend.

When they'd been kids and Makoto had been small and delicate with those beautiful huge eyes always on the verge of tears, everyone had looked after him. Now, Haru felt like he and their friends and Makoto's family had to work extra hard to protect that little boy from all the people -- including Makoto himself -- who thought that he should be strong enough to take anything.

Haru tried to put all his feelings into the hug -- and this time, Makoto gave a long exhale and leaned his heavier weight against Haru like he rarely did.

"I'm sorry," he murmured into the private space between Haru's neck and shoulder. "That must have sounded awful to you. I don't mean-- It's not that I want to still be with him. Of course, I'd rather be with you. I love you. I've loved you my whole life. I just..." Makoto lapsed into silence, but Haru understood. He wished he'd done better, because that was how Makoto was. He wished he hadn't contributed to hurting another person, even if that person had hurt him.

"You always try to be a better person. He thought he was already the best. I love Makoto. That bastard can go to hell."

"Haru, that's not fair!" But Makoto was turning to smother some noise -- possibly a giggle -- against Haru's neck.

Haru kissed him on the cheek, that small action effectively stemming all further protests from his blush-prone friend. He sat back so he could look Makoto in the eyes. "It wasn't your fault," he stated firmly.

"I know, Haru. We weren't good for each other. It was a good thing for both of us that we broke up. Tatsuo was right about that. It took me a long time to understand it, but I do now. I may be a little slow, but I get there in the end. You don't need to be so protective of me."

Haru wanted to argue about that, but instead, he lifted Makoto's hand and pressed his cheek to the large, knobby knuckles that seemed to have sprung up in the middle of junior high. One nice thing about being boyfriends was that he could convey even more now without having to speak. His gesture told Makoto, _I still want to protect you, but I trust you._

Makoto turned to kiss the top of his thumb. _Thank you, Haru._

Haru sighed. It seemed he still needed practice with this boyfriend thing. He'd come wanting to spend some enjoyable time together and had wound up making Makoto cry instead. Naturally, Makoto wouldn't fault him for it, but that didn't make it right.

He glanced down. Makoto wasn't hard anymore, of course.

But maybe they could still do something about that. Makoto liked sex. Surely, it would cheer him up.

"What were you thinking about, before I got here?"

Makoto tilted his head and frowned slightly. "Why are you asking that?"

"I still want to seduce you."

"Th-This isn't how you do it," Makoto scolded, looking flustered. His eyes rounded, and his bottom lip curled in, a precursor to being bitten.

"How should I do it, then?"

"Don't worry about it, Haru. Here, let's just lie down and have a peaceful nap. I can put on some music. Or we can turn on the TV and see what's on."

A thought occurred to Haru that might explain why Makoto wasn't willing to answer, aside from his normal overdeveloped modesty. "Were you thinking about me, earlier, or someone else?"

"Of course I was thinking about you!" Makoto popped up pin-straight. It was cute how affronted he looked. Despite his wild lifestyle last year, Makoto remained old-fashioned in some funny ways.

"You might not have been. That would be okay. You can masturbate to other people if you want to."

"Don't be ridiculous! Haru is the only one I want to masturbate to." Makoto put a hand over his face. "What am I saying?"

"If that's what Makoto wants, that's what Makoto should do." That seemed only fair. "What do you think about doing with me?" Haru asked, suddenly curious. What sorts of things did this other him do in his friend's imaginings?

"Haru!" Makoto's eyes had become slightly dilated, and his breathing had turned shallower. 

"You don't have to tell me," Haru assured him, amused and encouraged by Makoto's reactions but conscious of taking things too far. He didn't want to accidentally make Makoto feel 'dirty' again. "It's not like it affects me."

Makoto groaned. "That's crazy. You shouldn't encourage people to think dirty thoughts about you."

"Not 'people'. Only you." Judging Makoto to be fully out of self-recrimination mode and in chiding big brother mode instead, he nudged him gently with his shoulder. "Only Makoto is allowed to have erotic thoughts about me. In fact, you should have as many erotic thoughts about me as you want. You can think about whatever you want, anytime. After all, you're my boyfriend, aren't you?"

Makoto groaned and laughed at the same time, and Haru knew he had won. Makoto's body looked both softer and more tightly wound, and his loose sweatpants exposed a small but significant change. 

This was much better. 

Watanabe was obviously a bad model, but he wasn't the only person Makoto had been with multiple times. "Shuuji was kind of your boyfriend, too. How did you have sex?"

Makoto sighed a laugh at the question but gave in readily enough. "Shuuji made it clear we weren't exclusive or anything like that. We were just having fun together, and I was fine with that. I was so new, I wasn't sure yet what I liked. So, he'd usually just tell me what he wanted to do, and then if I said yes, we'd do it. It was very unromantic, Haru. I don't think boyfriends should be that way."

Haru mulled that over. He thought about the first two times they'd had sex. Had those been terribly unromantic? Maybe, but he had enjoyed them and Makoto had seemed to as well. Maybe he had more in common with Shuuji than he'd thought. "I like that," he decided.

"Huh?"

"I want to make you come by touching your penis with my hand," he said next. He was immediately treated to Makoto going red and speechless. "Do you want to do that?"

"Haru!" Makoto spluttered.

Haru grabbed Makoto's hands before he could hide. He wanted to see Makoto's face so he wouldn't make any mistakes. He wasn't Watanabe. Makoto trusted him. "Does that sound okay?"

Makoto's gaze fluttered around the room, and he bit his lip, but he finally answered, in almost a whisper, "I would like that, if that's what you want. Um."

Haru waited.

"Would it be okay if-- if I touch you, too?"

Haru took some time to think, knowing Makoto would be patient with him. He didn't want to mistakenly give Makoto permission to do something he'd renege on later. Makoto would be sure to heap guilt on himself if that happened. "You can touch me anywhere above my waist," he decided. He hoped that wasn't too tame for his sexually adventurous friend.

Makoto made a sharp whine that Haru was learning was a particular sex noise from him. It meant that Makoto was turned on but still feeling bashful.

"Is that a yes?" he asked, partly to make sure, and partly just to provoke his blushing friend.

Swallowing visibly, Makoto nodded. "Yes," he said out loud.

Further words having become unnecessary, Haru reached to pull his boyfriend's pants down, and this time Makoto let him.

It turned out that cuddling was something that Makoto liked to do after sex, too, so everything worked out perfectly.

***

Haru looked up from outlining his paper on communicable respiratory diseases when he heard Makoto make a soft sound. Makoto looked at him over his laptop, his eyes crinkled in a smile. Haru gave him an inquiring look. Researching late child development wasn't supposed to be that amusing.

"Kisumu sent me an email, about Hayato-kun. He entered a backstroke competition this year. He didn't place, but he said he had fun. He's even swimming freestyle more often now. Kisumi says he asked about me. Isn't that nice?"

Haru acknowledged that absently. He was glad for Kisumi's little brother. He'd tried to help Hayato, but it'd been Makoto who had saved the day there. Despite his own ability with swimming itself, he didn't have a fraction of Makoto's talent for drawing out shy children and making them believe in themselves.

"Oh, dear." Makoto laughed. "Hayato-kun says he wants to swim just like 'Big Brother Makoto'. He even prefers the pool over playing basketball now. Kisumi says he's becoming quite jealous. I'm sure he's joking, but I'll have to send him a reply. No one can take the place of a real big brother." Makoto hummed as he began a reply.

Silently, Haru watched Makoto's smiling downturned visage, until the jumble of... _something_ in him burst out into words. "I didn't like Kisumi." If he were being completely truthful, he wouldn't have used the past tense -- but just this was enough to catch Makoto's immediate attention.

"Huh?" Makoto left off typing, his hands still hovering over the keyboard as he looked up at Haru. His slightly raised eyebrows spoke of confusion, tempered by surprise.

"Kisumi. He kept trying to take you away from me in junior high."

"What are you talking about? He was your friend first, Haru."

"He made fun of me all the time. He liked making me uncomfortable."

"Well, maybe. He does that with everyone, though. That's just how he shows affection."

"I didn't need that kind of affection. I think he singled me out, especially."

"Yes, because he liked you. Actually, I was kind of jealous."

Haru made clear his incredulity.

"Really. You made so many friends right away in junior high. Ikuya and Asahi were in your class, and Kisumi was so nice to you. I felt left out, to be honest."

"You joined the Basketball Club second year." With Kisumi.

"Only because you left the Swimming Club, and I didn't want to keep swimming without you."

_"It would be meaningless without you."_

"A-Anyway. I didn't know about what happened with Rin then. I thought maybe you just wanted to have some space for yourself, without... anyone bothering you." Makoto made a show of writing his email, not meeting Haru's gaze.

For the first time, Haru thought about what Makoto's junior high experience must have been like.

Makoto had started junior high trying to change himself. It hadn't been just the swimming, though that was what Haru had been most aware of at the time. Makoto had wanted to be more independent, more confident, more like what he thought a big brother should be to his siblings who were entering grade school then. At the same time, Makoto had hit a growth spurt, which had made him stick out from people and perpetually clumsy. His uniform had been too short for most of second year. His voice had started changing. He'd been self-conscious about how he smelled. Suddenly, he'd started gaining attention from girls, which he'd handled poorly -- and that must have been when he was most confused about his feelings toward boys, too.

Haru hadn't liked puberty, but, much like many other things in life, he'd borne it as an unavoidable evil. For Makoto, with his anxious temperament, and how he wanted people to like him and how hard he tried to be 'good', everything must have been horribly lonely and frightening. Not knowing any of that, Haru had abandoned him. Even when they'd been in the same class again in third year, Haru had kept himself withdrawn, too mistrustful of others and wary of himself to let anyone close. He hadn't paid any attention to the most important person in his world, only because he'd let a silly race get to him, and he'd been too cowardly to figure out why he'd been upset by it.

Yet through all that, Makoto had stuck by him. He'd never stopped cajoling Haru into eating together and going places together. He'd never stopped inviting Haru over to play. They'd walked to school together every day, sometimes with Makoto physically dragging him along to prevent him from playing truant as soon as Haru's Mom turned her back. Makoto had looked after him like another younger sibling -- because Haru had been behaving like a spoiled child.

"I was a bad friend to you in junior high."

"Huh?"

"I'll appreciate you better now. I promise."

"Haru, honestly. I don't have any idea what you're talking about. You've always been great to me."

"That's not true at all."

"Really! You learned to cook rice porridge that time I was sick. You always came over to watch the twins with me when my parents asked. Oh, and you always went to movies and things with me, even though you weren't interested."

Scowling, Haru leaned over to flick his dumb friend on the forehead. "That's an incredibly low bar. You're too nice. You need to ask for more."

"Hm... You think so?"

He knew from Makoto's crinkled eyes and tilted head that he wasn't taking this seriously, but he answered anyway, "Yes."

"Then I want a kiss."

Just as he thought. Haru looked away pointedly.

"Haru, I'm asking for 'more', just like you suggested. I want a kiss from my handsome, kind-hearted boyfriend."

"I'm not--" He clamped his mouth shut, not wanting to play along.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Makoto get up and come around to him. He felt Makoto's arms surround his shoulders, and then he was being shaken side to side. "Haru-chan, please? You said you'd 'appreciate' me, didn't you?"

Haru sighed. Makoto wasn't going to let this go. "Fine." He turned, intending to give Makoto a peck on the lips. However, he found Makoto's patient, waiting smile provoking. Changing his mind, he seized Makoto's wrists and bore him backwards to the floor.

"Haru!" He found himself intensely gratified by Makoto's startled expression.

He pressed their lips together, harder than he'd meant to because he misjudged the distance, but not pulling back once he'd done so. He could feel Makoto trying to speak, but he pushed his tongue inside to prevent him.

It was warm and slick and disgusting. Makoto's teeth scraped unpleasantly against the underside of his tongue, and he felt sure he was tasting half-rotted things that weren't meant to be traded between people.

Still, Makoto made a high-pitched, desperate sound, and he pushed up against Haru's hold, trying to get closer. So Haru stayed and tried to mimic Makoto's movements.

When he thought he'd had as much as he could stand, Haru sat up. He wiped his mouth and grimaced. It was worth it, though, to see Makoto, dumbstruck, his mouth hanging open and his cheeks flushed. His hair, growing too long because Makoto was waiting to have it cut by his mother after he got home, was spread haphazardly on the hardwood floor.

"That's what you wanted, isn't it?" Smugness filled him in equal proportion to Makoto's obvious embarrassment.

"I didn't think you'd actually..."

"Finish your reply to Kisumi," he ordered, purposely curt as he climbed off of his boyfriend.

"Oh. Oh, right. Kisumi." It was only with a long delay that Makoto finally righted himself. He returned to his side of the table with a sheepish, shy smile.

As he headed for the bathroom to brush his teeth, Haru reflected that he felt kindlier toward the pink-haired menace now.

***

Haru was reluctant to inform Makoto about being in the clinic, but Jun would need to be in class by the time he could leave, and the nurse insisted that he have someone accompany him home. Finally, he conceded that he wouldn't be able to cover up his injuries in any case, and it was better for Makoto to find out sooner than later.

"Haru, what happened?" Makoto exclaimed as soon as he cleared the doorway. "How did you hit your head at the pool? Did you slip? Is it serious? Do you have a concussion?"

"Just a bump," Haru assured his friend. He didn't resist when Makoto stroked a hand over his forehead, though. While the extra stimulation to his aching head didn't exactly help, Makoto's presence did.

"It's not so bad. He should be fine by tomorrow, the nurse said. It's probably what stopped the fight, which is a good thing, or Haru might have been temporarily suspended from the team like Nakahara was." Haru scowled at Jun for his completely unnecessary information. Jun didn't even bother to acknowledge him.

"Nakahara? Oh, he was the one who... Did you fight over... me?" Makoto straightened, his voice trailing off into an anxious undertone.

"Of course not," Haru grumbled, already missing Makoto's comforting touch.

"No, no, no," Jun hurried to agree. "I don't think Nakahara even knows about you two. He's kind of a self-centered ass. No, he just got his temper up because some newspaper wanted to interview Haru."

"Magazine," Haru grumbled, still put out at Jun for spilling the whole story.

"Well, whatever. I wasn't there when it started."

"Wait. Haru, Nakahara attacked you? Why is he only _temporarily_ suspended?"

Jun shrugged apologetically. "He's a strong swimmer."

Makoto's brows furrowed in indignation. "Haru is better."

Haru groaned, more in irritation than pain, but luckily, the sound drew Makoto's attention back to him. Bending solicitously over Haru, he took Haru's hand.

"I'm fine," Haru assured his friend. He felt exhausted, emotionally moreso than physically. "I just need to rest for an hour or so, and then I can go home and sleep it off."

"I'll be right here, Haru. Don't worry about anything."

_"Think you're better than everyone just because you're a little fast in the water? Mr. 'I only swim free'. Hah."_

Haru closed his eyes. "Okay."

"I need to run to class."

"Of course, Jun. Thanks for texting me. I just know Haru must have been stubborn about it, right?"

"Ugh, you know him too well."

Footsteps led away. Then a chair scraped slightly.

_"Uppity, arrogant son of a bitch. Everyone falling over themselves to look after you, and you just think that's normal, don't you?"_

The clinic bed was reasonably comfortable, but it made annoying plasticky noises whenever Haru shifted his body. He sighed, trying to shut the world out and stop thinking for a while. He imagined himself immersed in clear, clean water. After a while, it worked.

"Makoto."

"Hm?"

Haru opened his eyes and looked up at his boyfriend. Makoto's relaxed, kind face was winter-pale, and the slight shadows from being partially backlit by the overhead lights made his face look more angular, more grown up. Haru wondered what Makoto would be like in ten years.

"If there's ever anything about me that annoys you, I want to know. If I can change it, I will." He headed off what Makoto was already opening his mouth to say. "You don't have to love me just the way I am."

"But I really do," Makoto insisted. His eyes crinkled in the way that meant he was amused and perhaps being indulgent.

"Makoto." He was too tired to disagree more strongly.

"All right, Haru. If there's something really bothering me that I think you could change, I'll let you know. And you have to promise the same, okay?"

There was nothing about Makoto that Haru wished to change. He started to say so -- and then he realized the trap Makoto had laid. He scowled at Makoto's knowing look. "I promise," he said instead, and Makoto nodded.

"Do you want to take a nap until we can go? Or play a game?" He held up his phone, knowing that Haru had never bothered to download any games to his.

Haru considered the choices. "Both," he finally decided. "I want to watch you play until I fall asleep."

"No problem." Makoto moved his chair so that he was sitting elbow to elbow with Haru, or as much as they could manage with Haru lying down. He started a sci-fi game of some kind, playing what looked like a robot ninja. Haru watched until the throbbing at the back of his head made his eyelids droop.

Before he dropped off, he felt Makoto's fingers brush his hair and then a kiss on his forehead. "Sleep tight, Haru-chan."

Haru mumbled a protest at the suffix -- or at least, he meant to -- but he was asleep before he could be sure.

***

As the nurse had predicted, Haru felt much better by that night, and he was back in the pool -- though on a reduced training schedule -- by the next day.

Haru took the opportunity to spend the remainder of what would have been training time floating comfortably in the rec pool, at the deep end away from the diving boards. As long as he stayed out of the way of the few divers, no one paid him any mind here, and the deep water buoyed him up and wrapped around him soothingly. Water would heal whatever injury remained, he was sure.

"I knew I'd find you here."

Snapping his eyes open, he saw the upside-down image of someone he hadn't spoken to in a while. "Hikaru." He flipped over and caught the edge of the pool while she squatted down closer to his eye level.

"How are you, Haru-kun? I heard about the fight yesterday."

The women's team had been at the gym and had thankfully missed all the fuss. Haru would rather most of the men's team had missed it as well. "I'm fine. I feel normal already, but coach ordered a reduced schedule for three days."

"That's probably safe. Head injuries are no joke." Hikaru sat down and put her feet in the water beside him. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Haru didn't have to say anything.

Looking toward the shallow end, Hikaru asked, "Would you like to have dinner with me and Yoshio today? Jun-kun's coming."

Haru hesitated. He wasn't sure of his welcome. However, if Jun was going...

Hikaru sighed, evidently mistaking his hesitation. "I know you don't like him, but it'd be a favor to me if you try. I want my friends to get along."

"I like Hayashi fine," Haru said, surprised.

Hikaru's gaze returned to him. "What are you talking about? You've never said more than two sentences to him at a time. At least Jun-kun tried, even if they get into disagreements."

"I just never had anything to say." He'd thought Hikaru would have known that. Makoto (or Nagisa, or Rei, or Rin) would have known. He was pretty sure. Mostly sure. "Sorry."

Hikaru tilted her head, staring at him. Then she smiled. "That's okay. I suppose that's just like you, isn't it?" She flicked some water at him, and he turned his head, annoyed but also not really. "Meet me out front, okay? We'll go to that ramen place you like. It'll be good to have something hot today."

"Okay."

Haru watched her go.

***

Rin whirled into their lives the way he usually did -- abruptly and dramatically.

{ _I'll be in town this Friday. Can I stay over at your place?_ }

As surprising as the message was, it would be good to see Rin again. { _Okay_ }, he answered accordingly.

{ _Great_ }

After they'd finished discussing details, Haru texted Makoto, informing him of the arrangements.

{ _Yeah, he told me he was coming. He said he wants to meet my friends._ } Makoto didn't elaborate further. Haru could guess it was because Rin hadn't.

Makoto seemed preoccupied on the way to the airport, and when Rin came out, carrying his hiking backpack, they regarded each other for a long moment.

It was a shock to realize that Makoto and Rin hadn't met in person since before Rin had left for Australia.

Observing the tense atmosphere, Haru wondered if this was how other people normally felt when he and Rin met. 

"Welcome back, Rin," Makoto offered, his signature smile in place.

"Good to be back," Rin automatically replied. Then he grinned his sharp-toothed grin and pulled Makoto into a one-armed hug. "You haven't been training at all since I left, have you? You're going to lose your swimsuit body for sure if you're not careful."

Sputtering in embarrassment, Makoto let their violent friend manhandle him for a few more seconds before struggling free. "What are you doing here anyway? Last Gou-chan said, you weren't expected home for another week."

Rin rolled his eyes. "I have to get some paperwork done for the China meet. They want to make sure I'm not a criminal or something. I thought I'd stop by and see you two on the way." He tilted his head, failing to look casual. "So, we're going out tonight, right?"

"Yes. We'll go to a bar I've been to a lot of times. It'll be a little quieter than a club, but they have a dance floor, too. It's a pretty open place with a mixed crowd. Lots of young people go."

"Good. Great."

Makoto shifted awkwardly, mirroring Rin's uncertainty. "Rin. You don't have to prove anything to me."

Rin held up a hand. "They're important to you, right? I want to meet them."

"Oh."

Haru didn't often see Makoto stunned with pleasure. He liked that look on him. He decided he ought to go easy on Rin this visit.

Rin turned a grin to Haru and spoke imperiously. "Lead the way, Haru. Let's check out your pool and see how soft you've gotten since Berlin."

Then, again.

"Makoto and I are together."

"Huh?" Rin stared at him blankly, and Makoto sighed.

"Haru, I thought we were going to wait--"

"You're... together? Like...?"

"We're a couple."

This time, the reaction was more impressive. " _What?_ But I thought--" Rin's face contorted rather amusingly for a few seconds. He stepped closer and lowered his voice. "So... you guys just don't have sex or something?"

Makoto's blush was answer enough.

"Holy shit." Rin wiped his face with one hand. "Uh. Okay. Um."

"Congratulations," Haru prompted.

"What? Oh, sure. Congratulations."

"Do you still want to stay at my place? You could get a hotel room instead." Haru wasn't looking forward to a repeat of Australia. He hadn't enjoyed having to share a bed with Rin then, and he suspected he'd like sharing a room even less if Rin was going to be having fits next to him.

"There's no need to pay for a hotel," Makoto said, ever the practical one. "Maybe Rin could have your place for the night, if you don't mind, Haru? And you can sleep at mine. Or the other way around."

"No, I don't want to put you guys out. Unless you'd prefer to sleep together. Um, I mean..." Rin's blush was starting to rival Makoto's.

Determining that their plans remained unchanged, Haru headed for the exit. "If everything's fine, we'll go drop your stuff at my place now. Then we can have lunch and go for a swim."

"Haru, wait up, you jerk!"

"Haru..."

He forgot sometimes how diverting it was to wind Rin up. It just wasn't the same over email and text.

***

In a show of support -- whether it was more for Makoto or for Rin, he wasn't certain -- Haru accompanied them out that night.

They met up outside the bar, with the usual greetings. Rin seemed unfazed by everyone's use of first names, though he stared noticeably when Ichirou pulled Shuuji to him by the waist and introduced him as "My boyfriend, Yama." (At some point, probably after they'd started dating, Ichirou had given Shuuji a personal nickname.) "But you can call him Shuuji."

Rin relaxed enough to smile when Shuuji pushed his boyfriend off, laughing, and introduced himself. "Yeah, I'm Shuuji. Don't mind this creep. Hi, I've heard a lot about you. You're some hotshot swimmer, huh? Like Haru?"

Rin's eyes narrowed, and his smile showed more teeth. "Oh, I'm not like Haru at all. Hey, Haru, what were the results the last time we raced?"

Haru didn't deign to answer. Makoto made peaceable noises while Rin continued to boast and everyone else made amused or purposely inflammatory comments. The banter seemed to put Rin more at ease.

Once they were seated, Rin nodded approvingly at the menu and ordered three of nearly everything. "What?" he demanded, when Haru gave him a look. "I've missed this stuff. Anyway, it's for the table to share."

That got a cheer out of everyone. Pretty soon, Rin was the center of attention, sharing stories from 'exotic' Australia and -- more and more, as requested -- from sixth grade. Haru was surprised at how clearly Rin was able to recount stories from their one year as classmates and teammates. Most of them, he had no or only vague memories of.

He'd known how important their relay had been to Rin -- signifying friendship and his father's legacy -- but he hadn't realized how much Rin had also treasured their normal lives together.

Haru shared a look with Makoto, who looked equally bemused.

Seeing no reason to limit Rin on his alcohol intake, Haru merely watched as Rin downed mugs of beer from the table's shared pitchers. Despite that, Rin didn't seem to be much affected, unlike Makoto, who became flushed and slightly silly as time wore on. Finally, Rin slapped a palm on the table.

"Enough of this. The music's here. Let's burn some calories!"

Haru hadn't noticed until then, but the radio had been replaced with a live DJ at some point, and the dance floor had begun to fill up.

Rin was a good dancer, which probably shouldn't be a big surprise. He was an overdramatic show-off, after all. Spurred by the itchy irritation he often felt around Rin, Haru tried to keep up at first, even knowing how abysmal he was at anything except a few basic steps. He soon gave it up as a lost cause. Scowling, he let Rin gloat and turned his attention to the others in the group. Conceding anything to Rin was _not_ comfortable for him.

He felt a touch on his shoulder. Makoto smiled at him, but not with the expected commiserative, encouraging expression. One side of his mouth lifted a little higher than the other, and his eyes were wide, excited.

A moment later, it was Haru smirking as his boyfriend moved directly in front of Rin and executed a kind of kick-step turn, accompanied by a mocking twist of his broad shoulders that seemed entirely at odds with his daytime personality.

Rin received the challenge with obvious surprise, but he immediately shifted into competitive mode. He tossed his fine hair and bared his teeth, before doing a series of flashy criss-crossing jumps.

Makoto responded with something Haru hadn't seen since before they'd started dating. It made Rin look somewhat scandalized, but he gamely replied with a half-lidded smirk and what looked like a vertical dolphin kick.

Haru heard Shuuji shout over the music, "Aw, no. Show them how it's done, Wada!" Ichirou obligingly made a third in the impromptu dance-off.

Later, back at the table, resting, Haru pointed out smugly, "Makoto won."

"Shut up. Nobody 'won'. We were just having fun." Still panting, Rin knocked back a glass of water. Evidently feeling the hypocrisy of his retort, he scowled. "Shit. Makoto can really dance, though."

Rin had never been to a club with Makoto before. Of course, the wide-eyed sixth grader Rin remembered would never have dreamed of stepping into an adult space, and Rin hadn't joined them the couple of times they'd gone in high school. It was weird when Haru's friends didn't know each other as well as he did.

"Anyway, I'm pretty sure that guy, Ichirou, won. His boyfriend sure seems to agree." Rin gestured with his chin at where Shuuji was 'agreeing' enthusiastically.

Rin watched them for a few seconds before whipping his gaze away. He cleared his throat and poured himself another glass of water. "You're 'asexual', right?" he said, using the English pronunciation of the word.

Haru grunted an affirmative, even as he steeled himself for an annoying conversation.

"So, you have zero interest in these guys?"

Haru let his silence speak for itself.

"It really doesn't bother you that some of them might be attracted to you?"

"No. Does it bother you?"

Rin shrugged. "I can handle myself."

"I can't?"

"I guess you could," Rin granted. "Makoto?"

"He can handle himself, too." Haru looked over at Makoto, though, momentarily worried. Makoto was conversing animatedly with Shuuji and Masaki, seemingly unaware of their attention.

"You don't seem sure about that."

Huffing impatiently at himself, Haru turned his gaze away. "He's with his friends. And I've seen him take care of himself before when someone got pushy. He's fine."

"Some boys are jerks."

"Girls go to clubs with boys all the time."

"Yeah, and sometimes they get hurt!" 

Haru realized that Rin's worry might not be just abstract. "Do you worry about Kou?"

"What do you think? She's all alone in Kyoto. I made her promise to write me and call Mom every week, but who knows if she'd say if something actually happened. She's awfully stubborn."

"She's named Matsuoka."

"Ha, ha." He grabbed a cold chicken skewer and began scarfing it down, probably hoping to distract Haru from the topic. He never liked to admit how seriously he took his duties as older brother and surrogate man-of-the-house.

Haru made a note to keep a lookout for Kou's well-being. It hadn't occurred to him to worry about her, but Rin was right about her being on her own. At least Makoto had him.

Throwing the stick down, Rin wiped his mouth. "So, Haru, I don't get it. If you're asexual, what do you and Makoto do together?"

That was too perfect to pass up. Haru raised his eyebrows and watched as Rin's flush from dancing returned in full force.

"I _mean_ , aside from the fucking, are you just like friends or something?"

Since he had pondered this very point himself, Haru could understand Rin's confusion. Not wanting to dwell on it, however, he chose the path of most amusement. "We do couple-type things. Go on dates. Watch movies. Sometimes, out on the street, right in public, Makoto likes to..." Haru moved closer and Rin froze. He leaned in to whisper in Rin's ear, "...hold my hand."

Rin shoved him away, drawing the attention of the rest of the table's occupants. "I swear I'm going to kill you in your sleep tonight," he threatened through gritted teeth.

"You said something completely different when we slept together that one time in Australia."

"Haru, I swear...!"

"And all the times we shared a bed before that, you were so nice to me. Except for how you'd keep me up half the night."

Rin had used to invite himself over for sleepovers in grade school. He was always clinging onto Haru, gushing about swimming or whatever and trying to get a reaction out of Haru -- pretty much a more talkative, less stormy version of how he acted now.

"Stop saying things like that, you asshole! People will get the wrong idea."

"Wow, I knew about most of Makoto's other men, but who knew Haru had a history, too?" Shuuji looked Rin up and down, assessing him in an obvious manner.

Rin seemed to puff up, challenging and defensive. The next moment, however, he turned to demand of Makoto, "Other men?" He looked scandalized, which seemed rather ridiculous.

"Don't listen to him!" Makoto cried, holding up his hands as if to block any further questions.

Shuuji, unfazed by Makoto's entreaty and also sadly impervious to Haru's warning scowl, answered glibly, "Oh, sure. Tons of them. A new one every night." Makoto was flailing his arms now, ineffectively trying to signal Shuuji to stop talking. Shuuji just smirked.

Rin, meanwhile, was blushing like a fire engine. "I always figured Makoto was more the one-girlfriend-until-marriage type. Uh, boyfriend, I guess."

"Oh, he had one of those, too. Just for a little while, though." Shuuji held up his thumb and forefinger to illustrate how little.

Rin gaped. "Makoto had a boyfriend? You mean, before Haru? I figured you and Haru were perfect soulmates or something." He gave Makoto a flabbergasted look, eyes wide and eyebrows flying up into his mussed hair.

Makoto looked to Haru for help, but Haru found the idea of being 'perfect soulmates' rather pleasing. Despite the rough exterior Rin had cultivated since Australia, he was still a hopeless romantic on the inside -- especially with more than a few beers in him. Haru wondered if he could get Rin to elaborate.

"What do you mean by soulmates?"

"Haru!" Makoto gave him a warning glare, correctly interpreting his not-so-pure intentions.

Haru pouted in reply, but Makoto's glare held firm.

"Wait." Rin looked between the two of them and Shuuji, who was still smiling innocently as he looked upon the chaos he had caused. "We already knew about you being gay. Why did you keep the boyfriend a secret? Or did you just not tell me?"

"I didn't tell anyone," Makoto assured him. "We dated for less than three months."

"That's still a decent amount of time," Rin huffed. "So, what happened? Did Haru get jealous and break you up or something?"

Haru bristled, and Makoto, not even suppressing his laughter, gave him a look that said, _Not so smug now, are you?_

Out loud, Makoto told Rin, "We just didn't work out."

Masaki snorted. "They didn't work out because Watanabe was a crazy asswipe."

"What do you mean?" Rin demanded, sounding suddenly less joking and way too sober.

A chill settled over the table. Masaki straightened and looked quickly in Makoto's direction. Haru didn't dare try to see Makoto's expression (and let Makoto see his).

Ichirou cleared his throat and answered in the same serious tone. "He shit-talked us to Makoto, didn't let him see us."

"That's not exactly true," Makoto protested weakly. "I'm the one who decided--"

"He put Makoto down, too!" Kazu put in.

"Yeah," Takumi agreed immediately, making a disgusted face. "He tried to make Makoto feel dumb and ugly. Fucking bastard."

"We didn't know until after," Ryo added, staring at the glass he was turning rapidly in his hands instead of making eye contact with anyone.

"You guys..." Makoto stared at them all, a slight furrow between his eyebrows.

Rin, who had been sitting silently with his mouth slightly open, exploded. "The _fuck_?!" He slammed a palm to the table, half coming out of his seat. "Where is this bastard son of a bitch? We need to go find this guy and mess him up."

"That's not-- Stop it." Makoto's frown was more pronounced now, his face devoid of signs of humor.

"What's his name?"

"Rin--"

"He won't remember it by the time I'm done with him."

"Rin!"

"I'm not letting some asshole treat my friend like that. Tell me where to find him, Makoto!"

Haru sat stiffly, hands clutching the edges of his chair until his fingers hurt. Everyone had various expressions of distress and anger. Their grimaces and glowers swirled around him. He didn't know what to do or how to feel. What would Makoto want?

"That's enough." Makoto wasn't the type of person to bang on tables or throw things. He simply used his 'stern' tone of voice, the one he'd probably learned from his father. He sat up tall and he placed his hands, palm-down and relaxed, on the table in front of him. "I had a boyfriend. We got along until we didn't. We were bad for each other, so it ended. That's all. Understand?" He turned his calm gaze around the table to each person in turn, including Haru as well, and ending on Rin.

Haru caught a movement, and he glanced over to see Shuuji giving him a look with raised eyebrows that he wasn't sure how to interpret.

Under Makoto's steady gaze, Rin slowly subsided. He blinked several times, rapidly, as if not quite believing the sight in front of him. "Yeah," he answered shortly.

Makoto nodded.

"Shit, Makoto." Shuuji drew their attention, draining out some of the tension. The slight young man rolled his eyes in an exaggerated fashion and shot Makoto a mock-disgusted scowl that caused Makoto to smile automatically. "What is it with you? You collect overprotective bad boys like stamps."

"Shit-hot and aggressive," Ichirou followed in a singsong. Everyone laughed.

Rin looked around, his slim eyebrows dancing between belligerent and confused. "Is that some kind of code phrase for something gay?"

Haru narrowed his eyes. "I don't know. Maybe." He'd heard it once before and Makoto hadn't explained it then, either.

"Guys, stop teasing!" Makoto pleaded, bashful and exasperated once more.

"I could go for some pudding from 7-eleven," Ryo suggested.

Whether from an actual love of dessert or simply to help dispel the remaining awkwardness, everyone agreed.

***

"You and Makoto... you two are really together, right? You're not messing with me?"

Haru shifted uneasily in bed. He wasn't used to still being awake at this hour, and especially not with someone else in his apartment. He turned over only to be presented with the back of Rin's head. He huffed. "Yeah. Why would I lie about that?" he asked irritably.

"It's just... I've been with you two all day, and you act just like you always have. Is it because I'm here?"

Haru thought back over the day. "I don't think we tried to act differently. You can ask Makoto tomorrow."

"No, idiot. I'm not going to embarrass him. I was just curious." Rin lifted his head and fussed with his pillow before lying back again. "So, this Watanabe," he said. "What was he like?"

Haru scowled in the dark. "You heard what everyone said."

"He was a real jerk to Makoto, huh?"

A pang of conscience changed his automatic affirming reply to a more careful, "Makoto would say differently."

Rin snorted. "I'm not sure Makoto can be trusted. He thinks the best of everybody."

Haru pulled his blanket up to his eyes, pretending he was sinking into water. "He's always protecting that bastard."

"What? Speak up."

Scowling, Haru pulled the blanket back down. "He gets upset if I badmouth his ex too much."

Rin flipped around and got up on one elbow. Even in the streetlight, dimmed by translucent curtains, Haru could easily discern one of Rin's narrow-eyed glares by the glint off his eyes. "So, what? You're going to let this son of a bitch get away with it?"

Haru had never been intimidated by Rin's theatrics. At 2AM, squeezed together on the floor of his own apartment, he wasn't about to start. "Makoto's not..."

"A girl?"

"He's not _weak_."

"No." Rin fell back into bed with a soft whump. "No, he's not." He put his hands under his head, his near elbow missing Haru's head by a few centimeters. Haru let it slide, because he didn't think it'd been by design. "You have to admit, though, he lets people take advantage of him."

To his distaste, Haru found himself arguing the opposite side of what he'd like to, because he knew it to be closer to the truth. "Makoto knows when he's being overly kind. It's his choice. If Makoto wanted to get revenge on that person, he would do it. I'm not-- Makoto doesn't belong to me."

Rin was silent for a long moment. Then he huffed and turned to face Haru. "Even though he's your boyfriend, he's 'free'. Is that what you're saying?" The reflection off of his eyes was all Haru could see clearly of his face, but he thought Rin's words sounded like a challenge.

"When Makoto doesn't want something, I don't do it," he retorted.

Rin made a rude noise. "Fine, that makes sense. But if I ever run into this guy I reserve the right to punch him in the face. Or somewhere else."

"Yes."

Rin chuckled. "I knew you weren't as blasé about this as you looked."

Haru wondered if maybe he had put too much emphasis in his answer. He turned his back on his annoying, nosy, and occasionally too-perceptive friend.

When Rin spoke again, his tone was softer. "Makoto's grown up, huh?"

"What do you mean?"

"He seems more, I don't know, more confident." He snorted. "He's certainly not a kid anymore. That shit he did on the dance floor... If I didn't already know he was gay, I sure would now."

Haru stared into the dark corner of the space under his desk. He knew what Rin meant. "He's freer there, that part of himself."

"Is he... not free normally?"

Haru had never asked Makoto explicitly. He knew where Makoto felt most unfettered was when he was having sex. When he was out with Shuuji and the others, it was almost like that, sort of halfway there. That didn't mean that was his true self, however. Haru's Makoto, Rin's Makoto, the Makoto who taught children, the Makoto who competed -- those were all equally him.

"I don't think so. I think he's free to show different sides of himself in different situations. There are probably things he wouldn't do with his friends that he'd do with us or with his family."

"Hm, that makes sense. I guess we're all like that, really." Rin grunted, and his thoughtful tone became gruffer. "You're the exception, of course. Haru is always Haru."

Haru wasn't sure if that was a compliment or a complaint, or perhaps both, equally. He didn't bother to answer. 

A silence elapsed. Then Rin cleared his throat.

"Hey. You're coming back for New Year's, right?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, good. We should get some of the Samezuka guys together, too. I wonder if Kisumi will be there? He's in Tokyo with you guys now, right?"

"Yeah." Grudgingly, Haru offered, "I can ask Makoto to invite him." He didn't dislike Kisumi as much as before, but that didn't mean he wanted to voluntarily spend more time with him.

"Great. It's too bad about Rei, but everyone else should be able to make it."

"Yeah."

"America. I guess we should have expected it."

"You were the first to leave," Haru reminded him.

"I was, wasn't I?" Rin sounded unrepentant.

Haru shifted, kicking his blanket straight. "Are you going to keep swimming for Australia?"

Rin raised one hand toward the ceiling and made a fist. "I've been there a third of my life now. It took that long to make it mine. I'm not leaving it so soon."

The next step. Growing up. Makoto.

"You're awfully quiet."

"Some people go to sleep when they're in bed, instead of chattering all night."

"Naw, I speak Haru-ese. You're worried about something."

Haru pulled his blanket tighter, annoyed at being so transparent.

"Whatever. You don't need to tell me. But no running away to another country again when things get tough, huh?"

That seemed preposterously unfair. "I didn't run away last time. You dragged me." Haru had paid him back for the ticket, though not the hotel. It hadn't been cheap.

Rin's laughter, as provoking as it was, was also soothing for exactly that reason. It was deeply familiar to Haru.

When he was with Rin, he always felt itchy, ready to move and react, to prod and defend. He wasn't like that with anyone else. It'd used to irritate him, but then he'd missed it when it was gone. More importantly, the way Rin made him feel was ultimately responsible for him being where he was now, both physically and metaphorically.

Rin had said that he needed Haru to move ahead. Haru didn't think that was strictly true, since Rin seemed able to get that itchy feeling with other people, too. Secretly, he thought Rin had grown up faster than any of them.

It was Haru's turn to grunt and speak into the silence. "It was a little crazy, but I'm glad you did it. You saved me when I needed it."

Rin didn't say anything for a long time. Haru thought maybe he'd fallen asleep, which was just as well. But then, there was a kind of a choked sound, and Rin said, "No problem."

"Thanks for coming, Rin." So that it wouldn't seem _too_ maudlin, he added, "I think it meant a lot to Makoto."

"Yeah, whatever. I had fun."

Rin's answer was mumbled, and his voice was partly muffled. Haru could imagine him blushing, but out of respect, he decided he couldn't possibly tell in the dark.

***

Rin's plane was scheduled to take off halfway through Haru's anatomy lecture and between Makoto's child psychology quiz and his sports medicine lecture. They were able to send him off at the train station, though. Rin was eager to meet Kou and his mother, and he seemed to anticipate terrorizing the new Samezuka swim team, reminding Haru disturbingly of Captain Mikoshiba. Haru cut a glance at Makoto's amused, open face and wondered if Makoto had ever thought of turning up at the Iwatobi Swim Club unannounced. Their former high school would be on break by the time they got back into town this year.

Rin checked the station clock once they reached the turnstiles. They were right on time. "Hey. Say bye to your friends for me. They're good guys."

Makoto looked pleased. "Thanks, I will."

"You should visit Samezuka with me. We can teach the newbies how captains behave." Rin smirked at Haru. "Show everyone your back muscles. I won't tell your boyfriend."

Even knowing Rin was being deliberately provoking, Haru scowled at him.

"Rin!" Makoto scolded, blushing, though he laughed at the same time, which only annoyed Haru more.

Rin grinned. "Same old Makoto." They heard the train approaching overhead. Rin hastened through the turnstile and toward the escalators. He waved to them both as he went but called back directly to Haru, "Take care." Haru wondered if he meant it in a more specific way than the phrase usually implied.

Makoto must have thought so, too, because he sighed and crossed his arms. "Honestly. First Rei, now Rin. Does he really think that just because I'm gay, I'm suddenly a proper, delicate princess?"

With an opening like that, Haru couldn't resist teasing. "Rin did say you looked good, dancing. You have to be careful not to seduce him. It would be inconvenient for me." He had the added amusement of imagining Rin's face, too, if he heard this.

"Haru!" Makoto must be imagining the same thing, because his chastising frown kept slipping into a laugh.

Haru felt happy. Makoto, flushed and laughing, was one of his favorite things. That was another perk to being Makoto's boyfriend, being able to see more and more of Makoto this way. When he thought about the future with his friend now, he still saw Makoto's endless smiles. The difference now was that he could see himself as the cause of them.

As for the house, the children, the garden, the cat... They hadn't talked about that yet.

Haru felt... still happy, but also... he wasn't sure what.

Dismissing those extraneous thoughts, he followed Makoto back outside. The crisp air was welcome after a few days of drizzly weather, and the streets were filled with people.

At the light, Haru watched a girl and a boy across the street alternately cajoling and dragging a large dog by its leash. The black and white dog with floppy ears lay down and turned on its back, laughing at the world. 

"Do you mind that I danced with Rin?"

It took a few seconds for Haru to turn his attention to his friend. Makoto was smiling at the same scene, but he was clearly also waiting for an answer.

Haru ran the question over in his mind. It didn't resolve into anything less confusing. "No. Why would I?"

"That's good." Makoto didn't look at him.

Haru studied what he could see of Makoto's face. He didn't have much to go on. All he could tell was that the set of Makoto's mouth meant he was holding something back. And that it had something to do with dancing. "I like it when you enjoy yourself. You had fun, right?"

Makoto's mouth relaxed, and when the light changed, he glanced at Haru before enthusing, "I did! He's really good. Even Ichirou said he learned a few moves."

"He lost to you, though."

"You think so? I'm glad. I wanted to win for you, but I think I got a bit carried away. I shouldn't have challenged him like that. What must he think of me?"

Haru decided that Makoto didn't need to have his bashfulness enhanced right now. Eliding the specifics of Rin's comments, he said, simply, "Rin said you were great. He was surprised by how good you are."

"Really? Wait." Makoto looked at him, his pleased smile collapsing into consternation. "Did you two talk about me?"

"Only a bit."

Reaching the unfortunate pair of exasperated siblings and their still recalcitrant dog, Makoto gave them sympathetic looks and an encouraging nod. While Makoto had grown out of his fear of dogs, his magic didn't seem to work on them.

"When Rin said he wanted to beat up Watanabe, were you really upset?"

Makoto's brows pinched slightly. "I suppose it was nice of him to want to, but it was unnecessary. It's not such a black and white thing, and he shouldn't have to get involved."

"Were you protecting Watanabe?" Haru tensed, worried how he might react if Makoto answered, 'yes'.

"Protect--?" Makoto burst out laughing. "No, of course not. Tatsuo will be fine. Rin doesn't even know what he looks like."

"But if he weren't fine, you would be sad?"

Makoto gave him an indulgent smile. "I'm not a complete saint, Haru. I guess if he got hurt, I wouldn't be too sad. But I also don't think he _deserves_ to be hurt."

That was a satisfyingly Makoto-like answer.

They reached the bus stop and Haru waited with Makoto for his bus to arrive. They spotted it two blocks down. While Makoto pulled out his bus pass, Haru asked him, "What does 'shit-hot and aggressive' mean?"

"Huh?" Makoto groaned. He waved one hand dismissively. "It's just something dumb that happened once and now it's a joke. It's sort of about what kind of guys are attracted to me. Don't worry about it." The bus rushed to a stop in front of them and the doors hissed open. "I'll see you later tonight!" Makoto called as he hopped on.

***

"Hello, Haruka. Do you remember if the Christmas-themed lion figurines from Okinawa are here, or did we take them back to Iwatobi last year?"

"How would he know where our decorations are?"

"He helped pack them away, didn't he? Don't be so grumpy."

It was like this every year. Haru had picked a bad day to visit. He wondered crossly if he could just turn around and leave.

"I'll start dinner soon. Come in."

Haru glanced over toward the kitchen. If he started cooking, his Mom would scold him, but they would eat sooner, and if he were already occupied he wouldn't be roped into--

"Haruka! Come hold this."

Haru sighed. Obediently, he set his bag down and went over to his Dad. He took the silver garland and held it against the wall where directed while his parents debated the proper placement of the other end. Haru felt a bit like a piece of furniture. He didn't mind, since it made his life more restful, but it suddenly occurred to him that he probably knew less about what went on in his parents' lives than if he were an actual inanimate object that stood in this house all the time. It was probably the same for them, vice versa.

It wasn't a completely new circumstance, but this was the first time Haru had felt a strong urge to correct it.

"Makoto--" he started, without thinking. He stopped, remembering that he should probably ask his boyfriend before he said anything.

His parents, breaking off their heated discussion, both looked at him, waiting.

"Never mind."

"That reminds me," his Mom said. "Makoto hasn't had dinner with us in too long. You should invite him over after we get back. I'll pack him some leftovers. The poor boy must have nothing good to eat, all by himself."

"He can cook pretty well now," Haru reminded her, more out of loyalty than strict veracity. "And I cook for him, too."

"I know. I want him to come anyway."

Haru wanted to declare that he could cook anything Makoto would want to eat -- but he settled for an irritated huff instead. "I'll tell him."

***

"That looks so good! I'll be thinking of you tomorrow."

Haru paused, startled by the arms around his waist, but a moment later he continued wrapping up the lunchbox in front of him, turning it a quarter clockwise as he tied the knot, to make it extra snug, the way Makoto's mother had shown him once. "You would have been thinking of me anyway."

"Haru-chan is mean."

Sighing at the diminutive, Haru let himself collapse back against his boyfriend, knowing it would just make Makoto smile more. He could allow Makoto to feel smug on occasion.

He liked this position, being surrounded by Makoto without feeling restrained more than a minimal amount. He tilted his head back so that Makoto could kiss his cheek if he wanted to without straining. He didn't, now, but Haru knew Makoto liked being welcomed anyway.

"What should we do for Christmas Eve?" Makoto asked.

Last year, he and Makoto had been avoiding each other after their second fight, where Haru had made some self-centered, judgmental comments instead of helping Makoto to feel better after his break-up. Haru had gone to an afternoon party with Hikaru and some of her friends at her hometown in Saitama. He'd stayed for cake and left early, eventually deciding to go to his parents' place and help decorate their plastic tree until they'd left for their usual Christmas Eve date. He didn't have any special recollection of what he'd done afterward. He'd probably taken a bath (brooded over Makoto) and gone to bed like usual.

The year before that, they'd all gone to Rin's house and stayed up late in the tatami room, snacking and watching a movie until they'd fallen asleep. Kou had come back from a party the next morning in time to gush over her brother's pancakes. It was a good thing for Makoto's pride that she hadn't witnessed his half-burnt creations, and somewhat annoying that she had missed Haru's, which were every bit as good as (better than) Rin's. Rei's mathematically proportioned batter had resulted in delicious, fluffy, perfectly shaped ovals, while Nagisa's, carelessly lumpy and with sugar and cherry candy mixed in, had yielded pancakes that had been unpalatable to everyone except himself.

"Is there anything you've thought about doing?"

Makoto hummed in his ear, his arms still tucked comfortably around Haru's body. "Our first Christmas Eve together. It sounds romantic, doesn't it? I suppose we should go see the lights and have a nice dinner, things like that -- but we've already seen the lights, and I think I'd rather have dinner alone with you at home. We can buy takeout, so you can have a rest. Just relax and watch a movie or something."

It was what Haru would have preferred anyway, which he was sure had factored into Makoto's 'request' in the first place. At home, they could avoid the crowds that Haru found so annoying -- as well as any curious eyes that might make Makoto too self-conscious to hold hands with him or give him those cute little kisses. He thought that both he and Makoto would prefer his own cooking, though. Makoto might allow it if he were given a significant portion of the preparation tasks.

The more Haru thought about it, the more he liked the idea of doing something domestic with Makoto on a special day.

"Let's cook, instead."

Makoto squeezed him once, acknowledging both his answer and the unvoiced sentiments. "We could exchange presents, too. What do you think?"

This time, Makoto's eagerness came through in his voice. Haru smiled, knowing Makoto would see. "If you insist."

Makoto knocked Haru's head gently with the point of his chin. Haru grunted in mock-pain. "We should probably set a price limit."

That might disrupt Haru's plans. "How much?"

"How about three thousand yen?"

Of the options Haru had been deciding between, a couple of them were under the limit. "All right."

"That's settled, then."

Makoto began to sway side to side, moving Haru with him. Haru didn't mind. It was rather pleasant. He leaned back a little harder. "Why don't you dance with other people anymore?" he wondered.

"What do you mean? I do."

"Not only with your friends. I meant, like you used to, with other people, the ones you might go home with. Kind of like how you did with Rin."

Makoto froze. "Why are you asking that? Don't be silly, Haru. You're my boyfriend now. I'm not going to let anyone else touch me like that anymore." Haru turned in question, but Makoto's rapidly coloring face arrested him.

Watching his boyfriend's blushing face, Haru's heartrate increased and his chest swelled. The sensation was similar to when he was with Rin, but different. He finally recognized it as what he felt when he came up out of the water at the end of a close race and discovered that he'd come out on top -- that split-second when the number one shone next to his name alone on the screen.

It was deeply discomfiting. He didn't know why he was feeling this way. Makoto wasn't a race. He wasn't numbers on a board or a trophy or a useless plaque.

Grimacing, Haru repressed the strange feeling. "I wasn't saying you should or shouldn't. I just wondered." He picked through the jumble of thoughts in his head for something both coherent and reassuring to say. "You can dance with people if you want to. You said it was only dancing, right? It doesn't mean anything."

Makoto peeked up at him. His smile was uncertain, and his eyes skipped lightly around Haru's face, reading him. He knew Haru's feelings sometimes better than Haru himself. Haru wished Makoto would tell him what this unsettling feeling he had was, but at the same time, he didn't want Makoto to know. "Well, yes. But I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea. And I wouldn't want you to feel-- left out."

He'd been about to say something different. He'd been about to say something that Haru didn't want to hear, and so he hadn't.

"I don't dance with you like that. So if you like it, you can do it with someone else. I don't mind."

"No, I guess you wouldn't." Makoto's tone slid nearly imperceptibly into a question.

Haru had the sensation of being pulled under, unable to breathe. "Is that a bad thing?" he demanded, when he had meant only to ask.

"Huh? Oh, no, of course not," Makoto answered brightly. "You're an understanding boyfriend. That's a good thing."

"Jealous," Haru realized. "You were going to say, you don't want me to feel jealous."

Makoto blinked, then looked away. "I guess so."

He knew that Makoto had a completely separate life apart from himself. He was proud of Makoto's accomplishments, his dedication to his studies, his ability to make friends. Everyone loved Makoto. That was only natural. Haru didn't resent anyone for that. He _liked_ it when Makoto was happy, even when Haru wasn't the reason. He really did.

"Is that why you don't kiss Shuuji anymore? You think I'd be jealous?" Did Makoto think Haru was that kind of person? That he was like-- "I wouldn't be jealous. You and Shuuji used to have sex, and I don't mind that. Why would I mind you just kissing? Or dancing with some stranger you don't even care about?"

Makoto frowned. "Haru." He reached out slowly, and Haru let him pull him into his wide chest, which was exactly where he realized he wanted to be. Makoto wrapped one arm around his middle while carding the fingers of his other hand through Haru's hair hard enough to be a massage, squeezing out all the extraneous thoughts from Haru's head. "It's okay," he soothed. "I know. Haru isn't that kind of person."

Makoto knew him better than anyone, so if he said it, it must be true. Haru felt the knot in his chest relax, bit by bit.

Softening into strokes, Makoto smoothed Haru's hair back into place. He hummed a quiet tune. "Dance with me?"

Obediently, Haru put his arms around his friend, though he kept his face buried in Makoto's neck.

For a while, Makoto continued to hum and to lead them in a gentle swaying shuffle, circling them around. He rested his cheek lightly against Haru's head. "I don't kiss Shuuji anymore because it seemed strange, now that we're both with someone else. I feel like it'd be disrespectful to Ichirou and to you. Also, they haven't known each other as long as we have. I don't want to cause them any trouble with misunderstandings. As for why I don't dance with other people like that anymore... I thought you might not like it." Makoto spoke over Haru's protest, explaining, "But also, I..." He didn't get far before he faltered into silence.

Haru waited.

"Dancing like that makes me think of, um, things I want to do with you. I miss you, and it makes me-- It's too embarrassing in public."

Haru digested that idea for a while. Makoto held him tight so that he couldn't see Makoto's no doubt blushing face. "Were you thinking about me when you danced with Rin?"

"Oh, definitely." Makoto laughed, relaxing his hold. "But that was a little different. I wasn't dancing with him so much as against him."

Haru agreed. "You looked like when you race. You looked strong." He contemplated the image some more. "You can dance if you ever want to again. I don't want you to stop doing things you like."

"Okay." Makoto squeezed him once. Then his voice dipped dramatically. "But that kind of dancing makes me think about dirty, _dirty_ things. Haru had better watch out, or something very dangerous might happen to him...!"

Even knowing he was being too predictable, Haru couldn't help but pout at the ridiculousness. Chuckling, Makoto hugged Haru hard and leaned backward, lifting Haru off his feet.

"Makoto!" He scrambled to hold on, to take some of his own weight.

Setting him back down, Makoto kissed his nose. His eyes were soft, relaxed at the corners. "I love you so much, Haru. This is honestly everything I ever wanted."

Rolling his eyes at his boyfriend's antics, Haru answered, "Fine."

***

"Yo, Haru. No one else is here yet?"

Haru, lost in thoughts about dinner, focused on the familiar figure in front of him. "Ichirou."

Arms crossed over his black polo shirt, Ichirou looked up at the neon sign of the establishment. "I haven't bowled in years."

"I've never done it."

"Oh?" Leaning against the wall next to Haru, Ichirou pulled a half-empty pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and plucked a lighter from it. In a practiced choreography, he tapped out a single cigarette and lit it, then stowed everything away again, the faintly smoking cigarette held lightly between his lips. Haru watched this procedure with detached curiosity.

"Makoto likes to try new things."

Ichirou snickered. "Yeah? You sure you should be telling me that?"

Haru frowned. "Makoto is a brave person."

"No, I was making a joke about-- Never mind." He took a quick drag of his cigarette and expelled it to the side, downwind.

"Why do you smoke?"

"Huh?"

"It's bad for your health, and Shuuji doesn't smoke."

Ichirou raised his eyebrows. "Are you asking why I don't quit for my boyfriend?"

Haru shrugged.

"He hasn't asked me to."

"Would you?"

"What kind of a question is that? No. Why should I?"

Realizing that he'd overstepped some boundary, Haru stayed silent. Ichirou was more aloof than Makoto's other friends. Although he was now dating Shuuji, whom Haru knew a bit better, Haru and Ichirou had never gotten close.

Watching the sidewalk in the direction of the subway exit, Haru listened to Ichirou blow out a long breath. The dank, papery scent of tobacco and chemicals wafted in the air.

"I've spent my whole life trying to be what everyone needed me to be." Haru didn't turn to look at him. After a while, Ichirou continued. "I'm the oldest son, and for some reason, that's important. I've got my parents and my older sister on my case, and the company employees are all judging my fitness to lead them. I'm only twenty-one, for fuck's sake. I don't know what they're expecting. This, college, this is the first time I've felt like I had a chance to breathe, and... Fuck it. I just want this one thing for myself."

"Smoking?"

"No, idiot. Yama."

"He's... an indulgence?"

"I guess. A partner in a hallucination, maybe. I don't know."

"What will you do after you graduate?"

Ichirou laughed hoarsely. "Go home. Be a good son. What else can I do? Too many people are depending on me."

"What about Shuuji?"

"Yama knew what he was getting into when we got together."

Haru didn't say anything.

"It sounds selfish, doesn't it? I guess it is. Yama can do better, but I'm glad he chose me." Echoing Shuuji, he said, "We'll enjoy it while it lasts. Then, we'll see."

Haru wasn't sure what would be appropriate to say, so he said nothing.

"All right," Ichirou scoffed. "Enough moping about my relationship. How are things with you and Makoto?"

This time, Haru looked over at him. "We're fine."

"It was kind of a shock when Yama told me you two were dating. I think I figured, if it hadn't happened by now, it wasn't going to."

The path to their relationship was much too convoluted for Haru to explain to only a semi-friend. Still, it was satisfying to point out, "You were wrong."

Ichirou laughed. "True, true. I don't think anyone's disputing that you were made for each other. Have you guys gone all the way yet?" He blew out a stream of smoke and smirked exaggeratedly.

Haru hadn't quite caught Ichirou's meaning until that smirk. Abruptly, he felt hot all over, then cold. Any feelings of satisfaction vanished in an instant. Would Makoto...? Did Makoto...? He realized that his entire body had tensed up. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to yell a denial or run away, nor which direction he would run if he did so.

Ichirou seemed to understand Haru's answer to his question, if not the subtleties of it. "No kidding? I guess Makoto must really love you. I'm surprised he's waited this long."

Haru frowned. Makoto would never push Haru to do anything. He was certain of that. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He trusted Makoto. "We're fine the way we are."

After a final draw, Ichirou flicked the smoldering end off his cigarette with his fingers. "It's a little funny that you two wound up together. I've never even seen you kiss." He pulled out a small metal canister from his pocket with a corporate logo on it, and he dropped the butt in before screwing it shut. "I guess childhood friends is just a different kind of relationship."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know. Makoto's kind of a slut, right? Whoa!" He backed up a step when Haru advanced on him. "I don't mean that in a bad way. That guy knows what he wants and he goes out and gets it. I admire that."

Words meant different things in different contexts. What was a shame-filled admission in Haru's kitchen was also a friendly greeting at a club and a compliment outside a bowling alley. Haru wished the commonplace act of talking weren't so complicated. He backed up and relaxed his fists. "Oh."

Ichirou quirked a smile. "You've been hanging out with us for so long, I forget that you're new to this. Listen. Go as slow as you need to, okay? Makoto's happy. You're happy. It's nobody else's business. Not mine, not anyone's. Wait until the time's right for you, and then it'll be really special."

Haru didn't give an answer, but Ichirou didn't seem to be waiting for one. He clapped Haru on the shoulder in what must be meant as an encouraging, or perhaps a comforting, gesture.

***

Pleasant, indulgent smiles under squinted closed eyes greeted Haru as he cut through the cemetery into Yoyogi Park. While most god statues seemed to discomfit Makoto, these quiet guardians of dead children, wearing their knitted red hats and bibs, always made him smile. In elementary school, they'd used to take a slight detour on the way back from school some days in order to pass by one of them. Haru had a theory that Makoto saw himself in the kindly, humble bodhisattva, though he was sure Makoto would deny any such divine association. 

At ten in the morning on a Sunday, Yoyogi Park was starting to get crowded with babbling, unpredictable strangers whom he had to dodge around. As he did his warm-up stretches beside a planter, a fashionably lace-covered terrier strained against its leash, trying to smell his pantlegs, until its equally elaborately dressed owner noticed and pulled her away with an apologetic half-bow.

_"Do you mind that I danced with Rin?"_

Normally, Haru would never have forsaken his bathtub or a visit to the pool to come here -- but he felt the need to run today. He needed to feel short of breath while his clothes chafed against his sweating skin and the force of hitting the ground vibrated his body. He needed to push himself until he could feel strained and wrung out, and water was no good for that.

He took the path that Makoto liked best, the one that curved close enough to the shrine that its distinctive, emerald-green tiles became visible over the treetops. It made him think of the hilltop shrine to the sea god back home that they had visited countless times, growing up, making the eighty-eight step climb to pray for victory, safety, and luck. The expansive roofs built for an emperor dwarfed the one built for a god. It made for a strange comparison.

_"Uppity, arrogant son of a bitch."_

_"You didn't even try. I suppose that's just like you, isn't it?"_

_"You should pay attention to these things, Haru!"_

He abandoned the pavement for a narrow running trail, well-trafficked and meticulously maintained. Reddish dirt kicked up behind Haru's sneakers. The coarse grains ground under his soles, making crunching noises. He tried to enjoy the combination of sound and sensation, but it was difficult. A man in a bright yellow jersey jogged no more than twenty paces ahead of him, and a pair of runners were having a conversation close enough behind that he could hear the odd word. A group of boisterous middle-schoolers was playing soccer in the field to his left. Their screams of consternation and exhilaration carried through the crisp, cool air.

_"I've never seen Haruka-senpai laugh."_

_"Haru-chan smiles on the inside."_

He'd built up his stamina over the years of training, but he still couldn't achieve any real speed on land. The yellow jersey bobbing ahead of him taunted him. Irritated, Haru took the next fork back to the center of the park, merging with a wide section of paved path. He realized his mistake as more traffic appeared, most of it coming the other way. He passed a fountain and then a statue, both covered with lounging park-goers and energetic children. When he cut across the causeway back towards the next running trail, a couple on a tandem bicycle cried out and swerved around him. He didn't pause to apologize.

_"You think you're better than everyone?"_

_"Everyone cares about you. Why can't you understand?"_

_"I guess we're all like that. You're the exception, of course."_

This trail had been built for cross-fit runners. Stations for pull-ups and elevated push-ups and other activities were scattered along it. Haru was too impatient to ever try them. Makoto had expressed some curiosity about them at times, but they had always opted to complete the run without breaks instead. It wasn't necessary for either of them in any case. Haru spent enough time at the gym, and Makoto needed more stamina and form than raw strength these days.

_"I'll take this one, after all. Here you go, Haru-chan."_

_"Do you like this flavor, too? Let's split in half."_

Through the trees, on the paved path, bikes and strollers and speed-walking people in exercise clothes made their presence known, a cacophony of humanity that was a microcosm of greater Tokyo. Haru averted his gaze from it and concentrated on the burning that was building in his lungs. A chilled breeze wicked the sweat from his forehead before he could wipe it off, but he felt a tickle of moisture down the middle of his back. The sensation filled him with distaste. Sweat wasn't alive, wasn't comforting the way a large pool of water was. The way bodies expelled water was at best mildly interesting to Haru and, more commonly like now, an inconvenience.

_"I guess Makoto must really love you. I'm surprised he's waited this long."_

_"You two act just like you always have."_

_"I didn't think you'd actually kiss me."_

_"I want you in every way you'll let me, Haru."_

A brief disturbance in the branches ahead preceded a cacophony of caws. Haru looked up and followed the trajectory of a hawk winging lazily overhead. It was majestic in a dignified, lonesome way. Meanwhile, the crows that had warned of its presence continued their hubbub in the branches. Muted wing-flaps and dropped twigs accompanied their raucous voices. To Haru, it began to seem like they were screaming at him.

_"Sometimes I wouldn't feel like it, but Tatsuo would keep going anyway."_

_"Haru, stop."_

_"This protective boyfriend thing you've got going is a bit much."_

_"Aggressive... That's what kind of guys are attracted to me."_

_"He was a very jealous person."_

_"I'm not going to let anyone else touch me like that anymore."_

Nausea rippled through him. Instead of giving in to it, Haru put on a spurt of speed, leaving the crows behind.

_"I don't know if what you feel for me is romantic love. What do you want, Haru?"_

The lake was before him in all its pristine beauty. Before he had given it any conscious thought, Haru had veered off the jogging path and toward the water. He heard a few shouts from behind him, but he ignored them, as usual, focused on his goal. The lake spread out to fill his vision, regal and welcoming and without complications. If he could just immerse himself in the water's calm embrace, he could--

_"Haru, no!"_

Haru stopped dead just short of the water. Puffing shallowly, he stared down at his bare feet, momentarily confused as to why he was standing there. Slowly, he squatted down and put his right hand in the water.

The lake was frigid, sleeping for the winter.

If he had dived in, he'd likely have gotten cramped up, or at least caught a cold later. If he had let himself drift, submerged, like he'd been planning, he may have even ended up in the emergency room in short order.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw his clothes, shoes, and socks scattered in a ragged trail behind him. He imagined Makoto picking them up one by one, chiding Haru all the while. He imagined Makoto holding his hand in the hospital. He imagined Makoto buying him soup and getting him up for class.

_"I guess it's selfish. Yama can do better, but I'm glad he chose me."_

He tried to flex his fingers under the water but only managed a spasmatic twitch. His hand had gone entirely numb.

"What's that man doing, Mama?"

Haru turned just as a young woman hushed her child, her gaze averted. He imagined Makoto blushing and stammering an apology on Haru's behalf.

_"Trust me. You are so in love with that man, everyone in here knows it."_

He stood and watched the water drip off of his fingertips to fall invisibly into the grass.

_"We can't help how we feel. It's worse to lie."_

When he could form a fist again, he began picking up his clothes and getting dressed to go home.

_"We can't force things to stay the same, but we can keep the things that matter."_

  
END Part V.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ichirou (一郎): first son
> 
> Watanabe (渡辺): crossing, ferryman
> 
> * * *
> 
> This last scene is my favorite in the story. Thoughts? Any favorites of your own that you’d like to share? :)


	14. Part VI: Only You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happily ever afters don't happen by themselves, but that makes them no less magical.

* * *

**PART VI: Only You**

* * *

  


"Makoto..."

Water sluiced around them, Haru against the back of the shower stall and Makoto pressed against him. Makoto could easily picture Haru's face, eyes closed to better feel what Makoto was doing to him. The part of the spray that Makoto's body couldn't block spattered Haru's beautiful body, soaking his hair and leaving trails of water that ran down in enticing tracks that Makoto longed to lick. The miniature rivers poured down Haru's muscular shoulders, tracing his spine and ribs, splitting at the small of his back above the swell of his ass, and rounding his hips to rejoin above where Makoto was concentrating his movements.

"It feels good, Makoto." That deep voice, with the slightest hint of a tremor, made Makoto shudder and utter a muffled moan. "Only Makoto is allowed to do erotic things to me."

"Haru," Makoto groaned under his breath. He shifted his grip and locked his knees. "Ah, Haru." His hand moved faster.

"Makoto, show me. Teach me how to make you feel good. Do you want to fuck me, Makoto?"

"No... No, wait..." Makoto bit his lip. "Haru, don't."

"Just my hands, then."

"Yes. _Yes_. Oh...!" Haru's clever, agile fingers wrapped around him, and Makoto knew he was close. The lewd sound of moving, slapping flesh was like electricity racing across his wet skin.

A gasp. "I'm coming, Makoto. I love you. Only Makoto can ever see this. Only you."

Makoto shoved his arm over his mouth to muffle his cries as he came, pushed over the edge by the sight of Haru panting, wet, barely holding himself upright and gasping Makoto's name. He stroked himself through it, the pleasure tightening every muscle in his torso and washing through him until he felt a momentary numbness in his toes. He continued until it chafed and even the water still hitting his back started to feel like too much.

Makoto braced both hands against the shower wall and waited for his heartrate to come down. Still lightheaded, he took several deep breaths even as he kept an ear out. Nothing. Good.

He opened his eyes, and he chuckled softly. His come had managed to hit the wall and a bit of it remained stuck there. He was glad that his eyesight was good enough that he'd spotted it. It'd be awkward to start bringing his glasses into the bathroom with him. Haru would certainly wonder why.

Quickly, he washed both the wall and himself clean.

The apartment was still quiet, the chill winter air undisturbed, when Makoto tiptoed from the bathroom. The blanket-covered lump on the bed had shifted. Though he continued to breathe deeply in sleep, Haru had stretched one arm out into the space beside him. Makoto took in the sight for a long moment, feeling his chest swell.

He checked the clock. Still an hour and a half before they ought to be up. It was Saturday, anyway. They could do their morning run in the afternoon instead -- spend the morning in bed together, cuddling, reading, talking. Simply being together.

As careful as he was slipping back into his place, Haru uttered a soft grunt at the disturbance.

The guttural sound, combined with Haru's warm scent and the feel of his body snugged against Makoto's own in the tight space, might have caused an inconvenient reaction if it weren't for Makoto's earlier activities in the shower. Now, it only made Makoto feel an overwhelming sense of fondness. Every day, he found that he was capable of loving Haru more.

Folding that outstretched hand into his own, he kissed Haru's temple and marveled at the profile of his handsome lover. Swimming and training indoors out of the inclement weather had kept Haru's skin pale, making his eyelashes seem extra dark and long. Some people had described Haru as 'pretty', especially when he was younger. Right now, without his stony expressions and dismissive comments, Makoto could see it, though he couldn't do so without also imagining Haru's silent eyeroll.

He'd watched Haru grow up, yet details like the whorl of Haru's ear and the short hairs at the nape of his neck still fascinated him. Without the distracting blue of Haru's eyes, Makoto studied Haru's Adam's apple and the subtle valleys of tendons on his long neck. He could see the barest dark prickles of hair on Haru's chin, the tiny imperfections in Haru's sleep-dried lips. His thin nose was a sharply defined tower. His forehead, with soft bangs tumbled away from it, was as unmarred as when he was awake, while his oft-downturned mouth was neutral and peaceful. Nestled in Makoto's bed, he looked as he did when he floated in the water.

Makoto reveled in the intimacy of this moment.

He had promised himself that he would never pressure Haru, that when they made love together, it would always be by Haru's initiation and purely by Haru's choice. As a result, their sex life was tame and infrequent. In the two weeks since they'd officially been together, they'd only had sex three times, and as much as Makoto would have liked to see it, Haru had chosen not to come any of those times. To be honest, Makoto thought if Haru ever asked him -- in his bald, direct way -- to bring him to orgasm, Makoto would probably self-combust. In any case, Makoto knew he might have to wait a very long time for such a request. He could take tens of showers before he would be gifted with such a sight again. And that was all right.

Each time they did share their bodies was infinitely special. Each time Haru fondled or caressed or stroked him to orgasm -- something Haru had grown distressingly adept at -- Makoto knew that he was experiencing a secret that no one else in the world ever had. When he kissed Haru's skin or was allowed to help him undress, he was deeply aware that Haru let Makoto into himself in a way that was far more intimate than any carnal physical connection could be.

Makoto wasn't going to lie. He wanted sex. He _wanted_ Haru. All the time. He would fuck Haru into oblivion twice a day if given the choice.

Absent that choice, however, Makoto found himself perfectly content. Just this, sharing a pillow next to Haru, filled him with so much love he could barely believe it. It still felt unreal. After the roller coaster of emotions and the convoluted quagmire of well-meaning evasions that had brought them to this point, the simple joy of holding Haru's hand and knowing they both understood what that meant was incredible.

Haru was cozy in his cocoon of blankets, his fingers and muscles lax despite Makoto's invasion of his space. Makoto closed his eyes and let the seconds tick by, cherishing his place within the small bubble of Haru's trust.

There was something Haru wasn't telling him, he knew.

No, rather, there was something Haru hadn't told him _yet_. That was different from hiding something.

Haru was working himself up to it. Makoto could tell from the way Haru watched him sometimes, the way he frowned a little when there was no reason for it, the way he stared into space while working his mouth slightly. Makoto could be patient. He knew Haru. He would sort out his feelings, then his thoughts, then, oh so carefully, his words. That was one of the myriad things Makoto loved about his friend. It might take a while to get there, but when Haru spoke, it was heartfelt and true. Makoto would keep him safe until he was ready.

He was a wiser person now. When Haru had pointed out how he had hurt Tatsuo, the thought had devastated Makoto in the moment, but it had also reminded him that he had power over those around him. The whole time he'd felt like a passenger alongside Tatsuo, he'd actually been a co-pilot instead -- and he had failed woefully at that job. Just as he'd had to learn to be careful when Ran and Ren had been born, and again when he had grown bigger than most of his peers, he had to learn now not to hurt Haru the way he had Tatsuo. It was good that he'd made his mistakes with someone who mattered but who mattered... less.

It seemed insulting to categorize Tatsuo that way, but it was true. Maybe Tatsuo would find someone else one day to whom he would matter more, but for Makoto, now, there was only Haru, and he refused to feel guilty about that.

Makoto wasn't stupid, and he wasn't a saint. He knew Tatsuo had issues that he had handled poorly. Tatsuo had hurt him, both intentionally and unintentionally. He understood why Haru and his friends hated his ex, and why maybe he should, too. But he didn't regret any of it.

Tatsuo had shown Makoto how to better himself and push for more. He had given Makoto a taste of what he could have in a relationship and also how it could go wrong. He had made Makoto stronger. He had taught Makoto by both example and instruction to be ambitious. And by ultimately giving Makoto up and pushing him away the only way he knew how, he had let Haru in.

Makoto was grateful to all the people who had come before: Nobu, who had been the first to reciprocate his curiosity and had gifted him the certainty of Haru's acceptance. Shuuji, who had shared his friends, shown him he was normal, and made him safe. All the others who had sated Makoto's explorative hunger, enabling him to put it all behind him now with no regrets. Even Tatsuo. Especially Tatsuo.

Thanks to Tatsuo, Makoto would never take Haru for granted. He would never put himself down so much that he became a burden on his partner. He would never make Haru feel like he had to be perfect. He would never make Haru feel like he had to stay. Most important, he would never shrink back and let Haru hurt him, because he knew it would break Haru's heart before his own if that happened.

Scooting closer, he laid his head on top of Haru's heart now. He couldn't hear anything over the blanket, and he could barely feel any warmth through the insulating layers, but he rose and fell along with Haru's breaths.

Shortly, Haru stirred. "Makoto," he mumbled. "You're heavy."

"Am I?"

Haru's chest dropped as he blew out a snort. He turned over on his side.

His pillow having been callously removed, Makoto rose and nuzzled Haru's cheek. "Good morning, Haru-chan."

Eyes not even open, Haru scowled, still too sleepy to verbally protest the -chan. "Bath?" he mumbled.

"You hate my bathtub."

Haru grumbled several deprecating half-phrases -- disparaging the designers of this apartment and repeating arguments for Makoto to move -- before submerging himself back in the blankets.

The obvious solution was on the tip of Makoto's tongue, but he held it inside for now, letting it warm him in anticipation. Maybe next semester, when his lease ended, they could talk about it.

Because it was Saturday, and his boyfriend was perfect, Makoto rolled into Haru's warm space and snuggled close with the covers up over both their heads. He closed his eyes and listened to the soft sounds of their mingled breathing.

Whatever Haru was waiting to say, Makoto didn't mind. In the meantime, he would luxuriate in the fact that Haru was -- finally and officially -- his.

Haru was always worth waiting for.

***

As their first Christmas Eve as a couple came around, Makoto found himself giddy with excitement. He had Haru's present wrapped up days ahead of time, and he'd spent too many hours procrastinating from his studies by fantasizing about their perfect dinner together. After a brief stand-off, Makoto had agreed to let Haru cook, but he would still pay for groceries and go to buy them as usual. Since he only had a morning class that day, he could go before lunch.

Deciding to splurge a bit, since they were saving money they would have otherwise spent on a restaurant-prepared meal, he chose some steaks to go along with the mandatory whole, fresh mackerel. Almost to the checkout counters, he picked out an irresistibly charming, if completely unnecessary, enormous red apple with a stencil of a heart sleeved over it. It looked like a round red heart nestled in a pure white ball of snow.

By the time Haru joined him after his late afternoon class, Makoto had the cutting board, knife, foil, pans, and spices laid out neatly. Rice was already soaking in the steamer, lightly oiled the way Haru had shown him. Assorted vegetables were washed and drained, ready to be cut and then either stir fried, baked, or steamed, depending on what the head chef ordered. Let it never be said that Makoto didn't take his assistant duties seriously.

The apple, he'd set on a plate by itself at the edge of the kitchen counter, where Haru would see it as soon as he came in.

Haru's glowing smile made it well worth the expense.

They started on preparations right away. Haru seemed approving of Makoto's choice of fish. After nearly two years of practice, Makoto had become quite good at spotting the best pieces. Makoto, who had, counter to what his friends and his Mom seemed to believe, learned how to handle a knife safely since his accident-prone days in high school, cut up the apple and fed Haru pieces while Haru set to work on the meat and fish.

Soon enough, the main courses were marinating (with some apple mashed in with the steak, for acidity, according to Haru), rice was bubbling in the cooker, and a pot of vegetable soup sat on the stove, ready for a quick reheat before serving.

Makoto didn't think he'd ever get tired of cooking with Haru. It was a nostalgic reminder of their school days with each other and their friends and teammates, and it was also a comfortably domestic peek at their future together.

Haru was the one who suggested that they open presents while they waited. People usually thought of Haru as stoic and stiff, but when he was excited about something, it was quite obvious. Makoto thought that, despite his complaints about how 'bothersome' it was, giving gifts was actually one of Haru's favorite things. He picked out presents with care, and he became exceedingly agitated when it came time to dispense them. It sometimes made Makoto want to purposely open his presents more slowly, just to enjoy that uncommon look on his best friend's face.

It wasn't easy to do, however. Makoto was impatient to see what Haru had gotten him.

Carefully separating tape from wrapping paper, then opening both ends of the boxy shape before flipping it over to remove the last bit, Makoto saved the reveal until the last possible moment. When the star-patterned paper fell away to reveal a board game, Makoto gasped out loud. It was a game that Makoto had shown interest in when they'd gone out to a board game salon one time with friends. Haru was quietly observant, and this wasn't the first time that Makoto had been moved by the perfection of one of Haru's gifts.

What most filled him with joyful surprise was that Makoto knew what it meant for Haru to give him something like this. Haru was signaling that he was okay with Makoto inviting other people to join them, to share their private space together.

Haru had gotten better at socializing since their childhood days, but with people he didn't know exceptionally well, he still often chose to interact only minimally. Maybe he felt more comfortable around Makoto's friends now, or maybe he was just willing to put up with them for Makoto's sake. Either way, it was a wonderfully thoughtful gesture.

"Thank you, Haru!" He leaned over for a kiss, and Haru tilted his face in that adorable way he had to give Makoto better access. Makoto had experienced kisses with dozens of people in various unbelievably filthy, salacious, sexy ways, but a simple peck on the cheek with Haru -- whether giving or receiving -- made his heart melt and dance like none of those ever had. "Now, you."

He hugged the game to himself for a second before setting it down to pick up his present for Haru. It was two presents, actually, the larger one wrapped as neatly as he could make it in silver foil, and the other a bit of a blobby mess due to its irregular shape. Haru took both with poorly veiled eagerness.

The framed photo of an osprey in flight was the first to succumb to Haru's efficient fingers. It was about the size of a small poster, edged in white. Water droplets were gathered on the fierce raptor's feathers, a scattering of them flung into the air in exquisite focus. The clear blue backdrop of the sky made Makoto think of an endless pool. Makoto was worried at first by Haru's quiet, but the longer Haru stared, the more sure he felt that he'd chosen well.

"It's pressed between two panes of glass, so it's waterproof. I thought it could go in the bathroom, on that nail that was left behind by whoever was here before." Haru nodded.

"Thanks, Makoto. I like it." In his meticulous way, Haru set the photo to the side before picking up the blob. He shook it and squeezed it tentatively, then held it up to his ear as if it might secretly identify itself to him that way.

Makoto hid a smile behind one hand. "Just open it!"

Obligingly, Haru picked out a corner and tore it down, revealing what was within.

Shopping for Haru was both difficult and easy. Haru had a few specific interests, and as long as you hit one of them, you were safe. Haru was also rather finicky, however. While he would appreciate almost anything you got him with some thought, finding something that Haru would actually like and use was a more involved affair.

Makoto held his breath as Haru held up the plastic toy by its strap. He let it out when he saw Haru's eyes widen and his mouth open slightly. "Do you like it?" he still couldn't help asking. "The aquarium created it as a limited edition mascot for winter. It changes color when it's wet. FamilyMart was selling it as a joint promotion." He'd bought a bunch of junk to save up the points for it, but that was all right. Convenience store lunchboxes were in fact quite tasty, and chips and chocolate bars had long shelf lives.

As if mesmerized, Haru swayed the strap in a circle in front of his eyes, following the chubby tentacles of the colorful cartoon squid with unblinking eyes. Finally, he put it carefully in his lap. "It can be friends with Gigi-chan," he pronounced.

It was both endearing and hilarious how Haru could say the most ridiculous things with a straight face and a serious tone.

"Thanks, Makoto." This time, it was Haru who leaned forward. Makoto presented his own cheek and his skin prickled at the sensation of Haru's soft, slightly chapped lips. Haru froze for a second, then sat back. His gaze was intensely focused on Makoto, not missing a thing.

"Is something wrong?" Makoto fidgeted, not sure what had attracted Haru's attention.

Maybe unconsciously, Haru squeezed Suki-kun's face so that its smile contorted. "I'm not really in the mood. I'd rather eat dinner."

In the mood...? "Oh!" He wasn't sure how, but Haru could almost always tell. "I wasn't going to suggest anything. I actually didn't even notice."

Haru's expression turned skeptical.

Makoto had been trying harder to own up to his sexual urges in a 'daytime' setting. Haru didn't like it when he apologized for it, and he knew, intellectually, that he wasn't in the wrong. It was still fundamentally embarrassing, though, to admit to things like erections and fantasies in front of someone who'd used to play with plastic fish with him in the same bathtub.

He forced himself to look at Haru's face, even as he felt heat rise in his face. "I knew I felt good. I just wasn't really thinking about it."

Haru looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, "Like when we were younger."

"Yes, like that," Makoto was relieved to confirm. "I wasn't going to start anything, honest. It just kind of... happened."

"Have you ever thought about fucking me?" Makoto must have been gaping, because he didn't need to say a word for Haru to understand. "You have."

"I know you said you don't want to," he hurried to say. He explained, haltingly, and with a considerable amount of trepidation. "I just, sometimes, in my own head, I wonder, what it would be like if you ever changed your mind. But I would never push you, I promise."

"I know," Haru acknowledged carelessly.

Haru had made it clear multiple times that Makoto was free to fantasize about anything he wished, a license that Makoto rather abused, if he were perfectly honest. He tried not to purposely masturbate to things that Haru wouldn't actually want to do, but he couldn't help stray thoughts from intruding now and then and having physical consequences. Oh, dear. It was getting harder to ignore now, the more he thought about it.

"Do you ever want to have sex with other people?"

 _What?_ "No!" he exclaimed, shocked at the suggestion. Haru looked no more agitated than usual, by either his question or Makoto's reaction, his face a picture of placid inquiry. Makoto wanted to shake him just to get a reaction. He felt obscurely hurt. "Why would you ask that? You're my boyfriend. You're the one I love. I don't want to have sex with anyone else."

"I don't want you to have sex with anyone else, either." The way Haru's lips pressed together and how his eyes wandered meant that he had more to say, so Makoto bit back his torrent of questions. "I... think I lied before, without knowing it. I do feel jealous when you're with other people. I didn't like Kisumi taking you away. I hate Watanabe. He didn't even appreciate you. I get angry if I think about someone else being with you instead of me, even if he can do things with you that you like, things that I can't do." Haru sat back, and the hardness in his tone changed to something approaching plaintive when he asked, "Is that terrible?"

Released from his silence, Makoto's words tumbled out of him in a rush. "Oh, Haru! It's totally fine. It's perfectly normal to feel that way. Don't you remember how silly I was when Rei came to visit?" He felt like an idiot just recalling his own unfortunate behavior. At the time, he hadn't fully let himself realize how anxious he'd been about Haru and Rei being alone together. It was a good thing Haru had let the air out of that quickly enough that the awkwardness hadn't lasted.

Haru still looked uncertain, however, so Makoto steeled himself for a full disclosure.

"Actually. I like that you're jealous. It makes me feel less guilty about how I feel about you, and it makes me feel wanted. You're usually so... tolerant, and I like that about you, I do! But sometimes I imagine if you got jealous over me, or if you got, um, forceful about protecting me from someone." Haru's calm, nonjudgmental stare encouraged him to gulp and continue. "Sometimes I even think about if you-- if you get angry at me for flirting with someone else, and you... remind me who I belong to." He put his hands over his burning cheeks. "I know you wouldn't really do any of that, and I don't want you to. It would be so awful in real life. But just as a fantasy... It makes me hot."

Haru gave him a long, intense stare. Then he got up and -- causing Makoto to utter a startled half-shriek -- straddled him. Settling heavily in Makoto's lap, he squeezed Makoto's sides with his thighs and pressed their torsos together tightly, even digging his chin into the top of Makoto's head. His hands tangled in Makoto's hair and tugged once, sharp though not painful. "Makoto belongs to only me. I'm the only one who gets to hold you. Nobody else should touch Makoto except me, and you shouldn't touch anyone else either." He paused for a moment, then added, "If anyone touches my Makoto, I'll get very angry."

" _Haru_ ," Makoto whined, even as he pushed his burning face into his boyfriend's muscular chest and took a deep, heady breath. "If you don't stop saying things like that, I _am_ going to start something."

Haru got up so fast he nearly left a vacuum in his wake. "That's no good. The mackerel will be ruined."

Abruptly bereft, Makoto groaned and let himself fall back dramatically on the floor. He squeezed his eyes shut as he caught his breath. "Mackerel wins over me _again_."

"It's okay," Haru assured him, although his voice was already out of reach as he went to rescue his fish. "Unlike mackerel, you're still good no matter how long we wait."

"Haru!" Having an asexual boyfriend who liked to tease him was extremely bad for his blood pressure.

As it turned out, the mackerel had been sitting for the perfect amount of time, though the steaks hadn't quite absorbed as much flavor as they'd intended. It was all delicious in any case.

***

Makoto woke in the middle of a confused dream where he was shoveling coal into a steamboat furnace.

The light was too strong, and he was incredibly warm. He pushed his blanket down and blinked up at the window. They'd forgotten to close the curtains last night.

Wiping his eyes, he looked over at his still sleeping bedmate. He was face up at the moment, his head turned slightly away, still deep in slumber.

Makoto shifted to check the clock and gasped when he brushed Haru's bare shoulder with his own. He moved one leg close enough to touch Haru's as well. Haru didn't wake up.

Last night, Haru had let Makoto use his mouth on him for the first time since they'd become real boyfriends. Makoto had been so excited he'd almost ended things prematurely just from that. Even now, he could easily recall the way Haru had groaned, his head turned to the side, his eyes closed. Taking a deep breath, Makoto wondered if he was really detecting a trace of last night's activities, or if that were just wishful thinking. Either way, the idea alone made him grin.

Haru had insisted on cleaning up afterward, but he'd consented to going to sleep naked. The feel of his clean, bare skin against Makoto's own might have had some unwanted consequences if Haru hadn't fallen asleep almost immediately. In fact, those consequences might be returning now.

Makoto allowed himself a few thrusts against the futon before he forced himself to stop.

Carefully, he slid out of their shared bedding, slow enough that very little cold air would intrude on Haru's rest, and then tucked the blanket around Haru's side after him. He enjoyed the sight of his boyfriend, bundled up peacefully, before he went to the bathroom to start his day and to take care of things.

Haru's bathroom didn't have a door. It was easy to slip quietly under the curtain. He ran a narrow stream of water for brushing and washing up, partly to contain the noise, but also partly to draw it out and let the heat inside him simmer. Teasing himself, he rinsed off his body with extra care. Finally, he rolled the bathtub cover back.

He hadn't done this here before. A bath always felt too quiet and intimate. He'd been saving it for a special day -- and this was it.

First, he drained part of the water and started hot water running. Haru could sit in room temperature water quite comfortably, but Makoto preferred it warmer. He got in while the tub refilled. The surge of the gushing water tickled his toes as he stretched them out. He leaned his head back against the lip of the tub and permitted his thoughts to drift.

 _"I want to have sex with Makoto tonight."_ Makoto felt his body respond to the memory of Haru's declaration. Haru could say the most outrageous things in that matter-of-fact tone. _"I didn't wear my swimsuit today. There's more friction that way."_

Makoto stretched his toes and fingers wide, then clenched them, relieving the tension and distracting himself.

_"I want you to make me come. Is that okay?"_

Unable to put off temptation any longer, Makoto grasped himself. Thinking about Haru while surrounded by warm water was even more erotic than he had expected.

The water sloshed with his movements. He wondered if Haru would enjoy sex in the water. Would that be a doubly pleasurable sensation for him? Or would he consider it contaminating his bathtub? Would his eyes shine in anticipation, or would he pout in that cute, put-upon way? Makoto would have to ask him. If only Haru were amenable, they would have to try it...

A splash alerted him to sit up quickly and turn off the tap. The room was instantly plunged into silence except for the remaining drips of the overflow and the roiling aftermath of Makoto's hasty movement. His hand still on the tap, he listened for any movement outside. He didn't hear anything.

Sighing contentedly, he laid back again. It took only a second to resume where he'd left off.

He had caressed all of Haru's body last night, meticulously, eager at the chance. He had wondered if Haru would get impatient, but he had lain still for Makoto's ministrations and smiled at him. _"You don't have to be so gentle with me."_

"But I want to be," he whispered back, remembering how sensitive Haru's belly had been, how his abdominals had bunched when Makoto had surprised him with his tongue. He'd wanted to leave a hickey there, above the tan line where Haru's jammers would be during swim practice, but he'd reluctantly decided against it.

He thought about Haru's smooth skin, always meticulously hairless so that he could be as close to the water as possible. He touched his own body and remembered Haru's hands there instead. _"Does this feel good, Makoto? I want you to feel good with me."_ He thought about the way Haru closed his eyes when Makoto sucked him, because he wanted to feel Makoto without distractions, because he trusted Makoto with all of himself the way Makoto trusted him.

"I love you, Haru."

_"Mm. I love you, too, Makoto."_

He thought about how Haru tasted, though he could only extrapolate from what he knew. He wanted to try without a condom next time. Haru would say yes. Haru didn't like messes but Makoto could take care of that.

More water spilled over. He tried to confine his movement to short, quick strokes from the wrist. He was almost done, anyway. This close to the finish, he thought about Haru coming, quiet and exquisite and precious -- and so scorchingly sexy.

_"Makoto."_

He loved the sound of his name on Haru's lips. He basked in the memory of that affectionate voice while he prolonged his pleasure as much as possible. With his other hand, he stifled the involuntary sounds he couldn't help leaking from his tightly closed mouth. In his silent throes, he banged his head once against the hard tiles behind him, but that didn't matter. When pleasure filled him like this, very little did.

He came back slowly into reality. He slid down until his toes were braced against the far side, and then he bent his knees so that his upper body could partially float. He took a deep breath and felt himself rise. Exhaled, and felt himself sink. Sound underwater echoed with the rapid beating of his heart and the muffled slaps of small waves. It was peaceful and hypnotizing. No wonder Haru could stay like this for hours a day.

The water was still tepid. He could relax for a few more minutes. He thought about how astounded -- and perhaps how pleased -- Haru might be to discover him here, and he giggled to himself. Orgasms always gave him a bit of a high.

Just as he thought this, a voice called to him from outside. "Makoto?"

Makoto bolted upright, sloshing out water and reflexively covering himself with hands and drawn-up knees. The reality was much less titillating than the fantasy. "Haru?!"

There was a pause, and then Haru asked, "Are you in the bath?"

"I'll be out in a minute." Makoto scrambled to his knees in the water and grabbed for his towel. He slipped at the last moment, only brushing it, and it fell to the floor.

"We can take a bath together."

"Ah... Um... N-No." He was stretching over to retrieve his towel when, without warning, the curtain over the doorway was thrust open with a clatter.

Haru was wearing one of his usual swimsuits -- as well as a glower on his normally impassive face. His eyes went to the shower spout, the spilled water, and finally to Makoto, half in the tub, half out, his fingers still several centimeters short of the only scrap of covering in the room.

He knew what Makoto had been doing. Makoto didn't know how he knew that but his reading of Haru was rarely wrong, and he was proven right a second later.

"We just had sex last night," Haru said accusingly. "What are you doing?"

For too long, Makoto gaped silently, caught between his usual urge to soothe Haru and a need to defend himself. Finally, he spluttered, "You said it was okay! You said I should." He sat back with a slight splash, mortified and starting to feel a little angry himself.

Haru's shoulders rounded defensively and he lowered his eyes. He started several times to speak. Then, to Makoto's utter astonishment, Haru directed his glare at the bathtub. Stalking forward, he knelt down and, with a quick practiced movement, he unplugged the drain. Makoto flinched when Haru's hand plunged through the water, very aware of what else was in there. Despite the water cooling on his skin, his face felt hot.

As the rapidly lowering water level tickled down his body, Makoto, further exposed, tucked his legs in closer to himself. Haru's eyes flicked to him at that, but it was too quick for Makoto to read his expression.

"Sorry." Haru stood and held out his hand without lifting his eyes.

Makoto decided to take the apology along with the proffered assistance up and out, as well as the towel that Haru picked up and passed over a moment later.

Shifting uncomfortably beside him, Haru said carefully to the floor, "Do you want me to go?"

"No, it's okay. You scared me, though. Why did you barge in like that?"

"You sounded... wrong." Makoto frowned and waited for more. Finally, Haru said, "I don't want Makoto to like the water more than he likes me."

Makoto froze in the middle of tucking his towel around his waist. He felt laughter bubbling up, but he firmly suppressed it, because it was obvious that Haru was honestly upset. He cleared his throat instead, disguising a single huff of amusement that managed to escape. "You know that's impossible, Haru."

Haru clearly wasn't amused. His shoulders rose higher. His hands curled into fists at his side. "If you want to masturbate, you should. Makoto should always do what he wants. But" -- he glanced up at Makoto, then away again -- "if you want me instead, you should ask."

Somewhat dazed, Makoto had to think carefully about how to answer. "If I had woken you up, you wouldn't have wanted to have sex then, would you?"

"You should ask me anyway," Haru persisted.

"If I ask you, then you'll know that I want it, and then you'll say yes."

Haru looked at him like he was an idiot.

"Even if you don't want it for yourself," he had to explain.

Because he knew Haru's tiny expressions so well, he could see how Haru was struggling to refute him and feeling frustrated because he couldn't. Finally giving up, he glared balefully at the empty bathtub. "I can't make myself want sex with you the way you'd like me to."

Makoto was speechless for several seconds, a sliver of ice caught in his throat. "Haru. Did you want to have sex last night?" He'd been so happy and eager when Haru had suggested it, had he remembered to make sure Haru really wanted it?

"Yes." The confusion in Haru's expression caused Makoto to sag in relief.

"Are you sure?"

"It was Christmas Eve. I wanted to have sex with my boyfriend."

Makoto couldn't argue with Haru's stubborn tone. "Okay."

"Did you like it?"

Caught by surprise, Makoto blurted his answer. "Of course! I always love having sex with you."

But Haru didn't seem pleased by the answer. "Did you like it just because it was with me?"

"What do you mean?"

Haru scowled. "I don't want a lower handicap just because you like me."

Again, Makoto didn't manage to fully suppress a laugh. He caught up Haru's hands. "Sex isn't a sport. You can't just win because you're good at it. It matters who you're doing it with." He kissed Haru's hands. "At least, it matters to me." When Haru still looked dubious, he urged him to sit down with him on the edge of the tub. "Haru, you know I've had sex with a lot of people."

Haru nodded, visibly unfazed. It was Makoto who had to do his best to ignore the fierce blush creeping up the back of his neck. It was ridiculous how he still had trouble talking bluntly about sex with his own boyfriend.

"So you can believe me when I say that being with you always feels amazing."

Haru shrugged.

"Do you know what I was thinking about?" He nodded at the tub, and Haru scowled but shook his head. Makoto leaned in, not quite able to say this at a normal volume. "I was thinking about you, last night," he confided. "Us. What we did. The water made me think of you. You were so good, Haru, you made me come last night and then again the next morning." Seeing Haru frown thoughtfully, he went on. "I wish you could feel what I feel when I'm with you. It's like everything good happening all at once. Like a birthday and winning a race and eating ice cream and the cat on the stairs running to meet me... I can't even describe it."

Haru nodded slowly. "You look that way."

Right. Haru always said his orgasms were 'beautiful'. Makoto tried to laugh his embarrassment away. "There, you see?"

"This still isn't right, though." Haru trailed one hand into the empty tub. "You shouldn't have to be alone all the time."

"I'm not. We have sex sometimes. That's enough." If they both weren't mostly naked, he'd pull his adorably pouting boyfriend into a reassuring hug.

He decided to do it anyway.

As he'd expected, Haru sat rock-still for a long, stubborn moment -- before he melted bit by bit to lean into Makoto's chest.

"I really am okay with this," he reassured Haru. "I'm not just saying it to make you feel better. I don't need to-- to have wild sex with you every day. That would actually be kind of weird, right? We aren't like that."

Haru pushed back and his eyes ran over Makoto's face, perhaps looking for the truth in him.

"I mean it. The fact that you want it with me sometimes is enough. I know you give me as much of yourself as you can. That's already so special to me."

"I don't, though. I don't give you as much as I could."

"You give me as much as I want to have," Makoto told him firmly. "If you ever gave me sex just to indulge me, I wouldn't enjoy it either. I've never been happier than now. That's the truth. Nothing needs to change."

Haru stared intently into his eyes, in that soul-deep way that he sometimes did. When he finally spoke, his words made Makoto take a quick, hurt breath. "I was happy before we were boyfriends," he said. But then he went on. "I'm even happier now. Things can be good, and then they can get better. I want Makoto-- I want _us_ to have the best."

It always amazed Makoto how Haru might miss the most obvious things, but then go right to the heart of the matter in the most stunning way. He hugged Haru tight. "I see," he murmured into Haru's hair. "But Haru, you're not going to want sex any more than you do now, are you?"

After a brief silence, Haru reluctantly answered, "Probably not. But I want you to trust me."

It was his turn to push away in disbelief. He stared at Haru's frowning face, bewildered. "What are you talking about?" He trusted Haru with everything.

"You like the real me better than the me in your head, right?"

"Yes, of course."

"But you don't ask for the real me, and you don't let me try."

"I don't want to pressure--"

"I _like_ having sex with you, Makoto. You wanted me to believe you, and I want you to believe me, too."

That was more than fair, and not something Makoto had considered before. "Y-You're right, Haru. I'm sorry." For all his care, he had still messed up.

Haru huffed. "It wasn't just you."

They'd both been stuck, trying to protect each other when maybe neither needed it after all.

Feeling better, Makoto cast a tentative smile at his boyfriend. "So. I like having sex with my gorgeous, considerate, wise boyfriend, and he likes having sex with me. Is that right?"

He'd expected Haru to roll his eyes, but Haru nodded seriously. "I like having sex with you as my boyfriend. It's better than before. You're more relaxed now. You're more like my Makoto."

Makoto scrubbed his face, even knowing it wouldn't get rid of his blush. "I like being your Makoto."

"So, let me be your Haru."

Makoto squeezed his eyes shut. Then he took a deep breath and looked into Haru's eyes as he matched Haru's complete seriousness. "From now on, I'll promise to ask, if you promise to answer truthfully."

"I will," Haru answered, with zero hesitation or avoidance. "I want you to ask me for sex anytime you want it, and if I say yes I want you not to feel bad about it, and if I say no, I want you to still ask next time." He gave Makoto a sidelong glance before turning his face away. "I might say no a lot."

"That's okay." At Haru's frown, Makoto assured him, "It really is."

The frown persisted for a few seconds before Haru grunted in assent. He shrugged. "I'll say yes a lot, too."

Makoto laughed. "I don't think you can do both."

"Why not? Makoto gets hard a lot, so it'll be easy to get to high numbers."

"Haru!" Makoto chided, which he knew was expected of him. "You're the silliest boyfriend ever. But also the best." He kissed his silly(est) boyfriend on the cheek.

Haru looked away, his version of bashful. As always, Makoto's heart filled with tenderness and whimsy at the sight.

"Haru-chan." He grinned at Haru's immediate scowl. "What would you say if I asked for sex now?"

"You can't get hard again so fast," Haru sniffed dismissively. He narrowed his eyes at Makoto's towel. "Can you?"

Abruptly, Makoto's body seemed to forget that Makoto had only been trying to rile Haru. "Ah."

"We just had sex last night," Haru said again. This time, he sounded confused. Curious. "You were able to come again so soon?"

Makoto laughed nervously. "Oh, Haru. Twice in two days is normal. I could do it twice in a _row_ , easy, if it was with you."

Haru's eyes went wide. Makoto was afraid he'd frightened his friend, but Haru said, in a definitive tone, "Makoto is amazing."

"I'm not! I'm pretty sure most guys can have sex every day."

"You used to only go out two or three times a week at most."

"That's because I have to study and do other things. I can't just have sex all day."

Haru looked thoughtful. Dangerously so. "How many times a week did you have sex with Watanabe?"

Despite all the good it had brought Haru and him, Makoto sometimes lamented the stubborn competitive spirit that Rin had stoked in his friend. He held up his hands, trying to stop the inevitable. "It doesn't matter, Haru. You're different people."

"How many?" Haru insisted.

"I don't know. Every few days?" he hedged. In fact, they'd been together every time they'd slept over at each other's places, and sometimes when they hadn't.

"What was the highest number of times you had sex with him in one day?"

"You don't need to know that!" In spite of himself, his nether regions were starting to agree enthusiastically with Haru's obvious plan. Someone here had to be reasonable. "Quantity isn't important. Didn't I just tell you that I'm very satisfied with the sex we have?" Haru merely stared until Makoto -- as usual -- gave in. "I'm not sure. Three? I think?"

"We're going to do four." He nodded at the tub. "We can count that one, since you were thinking about me."

Makoto couldn't think how to answer through the fire in his brain.

"But we should try for five just to make sure," Haru went blithely on.

"Haru!"

Haru frowned and laid a hand lightly on Makoto's knee. "Unless you don't want to? You can say no, too, Makoto."

Instead of cooling Makoto down, it had the opposite effect. Makoto covered his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at Haru while he said, "I'm not saying no."

"Good."

All of a sudden, Haru was pulling him up. Makoto followed eagerly -- until he found himself being pushed ahead of Haru out of the bathroom. "Haru?"

"I'll get cleaned up. You get ready."

Makoto found himself outside, the curtain pulled to in his face. "Haru!" Now that he'd tacitly agreed to this experiment -- competition? -- he couldn't believe Haru was going to just leave him here. He reached under his towel to at least soothe himself a bit.

"Wait for me. No cheating!" Haru admonished him from inside.

Jumping, Makoto yanked his hand out before he'd made any contact. "I wasn't!"

There was no reply. The sound of teeth-brushing ensued. A minute later, Makoto heard a bath being drawn. He stared at the curtain that was the only thing separating him from his boyfriend.

The curtain was so flimsy, nearly insubstantial. Haru was right through there, nearly naked, vulnerable and willing.

Moaning, Makoto jerked himself away from the doorway. He threw himself down on the futon to wait.

***

Even excluding Makoto's first time alone, they managed six.

***

A few days later, Haru's parents returned with them to Iwatobi -- or would it be more accurate to say it the other way around? Makoto was still getting used to being an adult in the eyes of the world at large, though he doubted he would ever be grown up in his parents' eyes.

He'd had a very brief discussion with Haru about whether they should tell Haru's parents about their relationship before they traveled together. The discussion had consisted of Makoto asking, and Haru giving him a pleased look. Makoto had expected that, since he thought that Haru's parents were quite likely to take the news kindly. Eventually, however, Haru had said that it would be fairer if they told everyone at the same time.

As terrifying as the thought was, Makoto hated hiding himself from his family, so he had agreed. The specifics of that were still something he and Haru would have to talk about.

When they met up at the airport, Auntie and Uncle Nanase greeted him with their usual quiet cheerfulness. Also as usual, they didn't ask many questions other than expressions of concern for his well-being and practical inquiries about his luggage and his plane ticket. They'd gotten three seats in a row on the edge and a fourth across the aisle.

Makoto got the window seat, and he knew better than to protest. When he was with Haru's parents, they still tended to treat him like the baby. He had to admit that he rather liked it. As much as he adored being the big brother at home, he enjoyed being spoiled just occasionally.

Neither he nor Haru remembered it, but apparently Haru's parents had told him he had to watch out for his smaller friend when they were little enough that the five-month disparity in their ages made a difference, and even now, over a decade later, their parents laughed about how seriously Haru had taken the directive. It made Makoto feel warm to imagine a much younger Haru protecting him from such appalling dangers as non-favorite foods and dropped toys.

Haru gave him a brief, indulgent smile as they sat down, no doubt guessing his thoughts.

Auntie sat next to her son while Uncle sat in the closest seat an aisle away. Makoto found himself watching them more than he looked out the window on the one-and-a-half-hour flight. These were the people who had contributed the genes that made up his boyfriend, and they, along with Haru's grandmother, had raised him. He watched them chat with each other like old friends. He watched them pass tissues and a book across the aisle.

Haru touched his hand, and said, "Twenty years." _That could be us_ , Makoto understood it to mean.

He smiled in agreement and, while no one was looking, he squeezed Haru's hand.

***

Makoto's Mom gave him a haircut in their front yard as soon as they got home. "I can't believe my son has been walking around looking like a vagabond!"

"I think it looks nice. You should leave it long and style it like--" Ran named someone whom she was exasperated to discover that no one else knew. He turned out to be a Korean pop star. While Makoto didn't mind the fashion advice, having become immune to all manner of outrageous suggestions from his siblings over the years, he was unreasonably shocked at the idea of his little sister being old enough to crush on pop stars.

"Don't be silly," Makoto's Mom admonished her.

"That's right," Ren agreed. "If Big Brother's going to look like a pop star, he should at least imitate a Japanese one." He was, disconcertingly, as tall as Makoto's shoulder now. The twins had changed out of their uniforms to pick him up from the airport, and without that reminder that he was no longer a grade-schooler, his height was even more startling. Even with his tendency to slouch, standing, he loomed over Makoto in his chair.

"That's hardly the point," Makoto's Dad said, crossing his arms mock-sternly.

As if he were the star of some stage show, his family gathered around him, chatting and making observations, while his Mom trimmed his hair back into the length he was used to -- and then quite a bit shorter. "You'll have some room to grow," she said. "And, goodness, please spend some money on haircuts in Tokyo if you need it. You don't have to wait until you come home for Spring Break."

"It's not the same as having you cut it." It was true. He'd settled for walking in to a few random places but had always felt awkward and disappointed about the results.

"Oh, you." She dusted stray bits of hair off his neck and pecked him on the cheek.

It was good to be home.

***

"Mako-chan's trying a bad boy look!" Nagisa announced to the whole plaza once they found each other outside the train station.

"Hm." Rin looked him up and down. "You've had the same hairstyle since I first knew you. Maybe it was time for a change." He shrugged. "But either way is fine. "

Haru, who had come directly from lunch with his parents' friends, only said, "Whatever Makoto likes is fine with me. Nagisa. We're dating."

"Are we? You should've treated me to lunch, then." Nagisa hooked his arm around Haru's and snuggled into his side. A second later, he gasped in understanding. "I knew it! You and Mako-chan are meant to be together!" He yanked Makoto in with his other hand, and somehow, despite Nagisa's relatively short arms, Rin wound up in the group hug as well.

"How did you know he didn't mean me?" Rin asked, his tone teasing but his face full of genuine disgruntlement, probably at being manhandled -- and possibly a tiny bit in that competitive spirit that in many ways defined him. Makoto appreciated it anyway. He didn't think Rin would have made a joke like that a year ago.

He was debating whether giving Rin a 'consoling' kiss on the cheek would be going too far, when Nagisa spoke up. "Because Haru-chan isn't interested in girly guys. Right, Haru-chan?"

"What the hell does _that_ mean?"

Nagisa had to break and run then, with Rin chasing after him.

"Do you think this hairstyle suits me?" Makoto asked Haru once they were alone.

Haru tipped his head to the side. "It's different. I'll have to get used to it. If you like it, I like it."

It was a very Haru thing to say, and not even particularly romantic. Makoto blushed anyway.

By the time they'd caught up with the other two again, Nagisa's hair was mussed but he was otherwise none the worse for wear. In fact, he had somehow acquired an ice cream cone. Rin was, incongruously, holding his own frozen ice pop in the chilly weather. He rolled his eyes as Nagisa bounded up to them.

"Rin-chan and I were discussing it. Since it's the four of us together, there's only one thing to do: We have to swim a relay!"

"It's winter!" Makoto protested. Even indoors at the ITSCR, where Nagisa presumably meant for them to go, it would be cold. They would never take advantage of Coach Sasabe by turning on the building's heater for just the four of them.

"It would be so nostalgic," Nagisa countered.

"We can wait until tomorrow, when everyone can join us." Haru's reasonable compromise seemed to bank Nagisa's enthusiasm for now.

"Wait a minute. I can't swim against my own team," Rin protested.

"It's okay. We'll mix and match. Gou-chan can swim with Ai-chan and the others and you with us!"

Much had been made over email the last year about how Gou had at last learned to swim. While she hadn't acquired enough proficiency in time to compete officially, no one (except perhaps Rin) had been surprised to find that she had a huge competitive streak. Her standard method for brow-beating the two new female team members became to instigate a rule that if they couldn't beat her in freestyle as a complete amateur, they would have to do extra practice.

As Rin and Nagisa bickered back and forth about tomorrow's relay line-up, Makoto wondered how the Iwatobi Swim Club was doing now, and who the new manager and captain were. His own team would always be the Club in his head. It was strange to realize that there had been a large and active group of students swimming for Iwatobi High in the past and was now again.

With a decisive motion, Rin tossed the remains of his frozen snack into a trash bin. "Let's go to the bookstore. I miss all the best comics and new swimming books while I'm away."

"Aw, it's too bad Rei-chan isn't here. He could probably rank them for you."

The mention of Rei made Makoto pay closer attention to Nagisa's expression. Nagisa looked cheerful enough. While he hadn't shared details over text, he had apparently settled in comfortably as Rei's best friend. He'd even admitted to a slight crush on a classmate. Makoto was glad. He had first hand experience that pining was a terrible existence to live in.

Haru was his boyfriend. His friends were doing well. His family, too. He had a job lined up and he felt he finally had a handle on a college schedule. It felt like everything was falling into place for Makoto.

***

The night before New Year's Eve, Makoto and Haru treated Ran and Ren to dinner at a fast food place and a movie. Haru came back with them afterward to play video games.

Makoto had missed this, competing with his friend in a virtual space while his siblings cheered them on, or refereeing fights between Ran and Ren when they played. He'd used to have to patiently guide them in how to play and then soothe them when they inevitably made mistakes. It'd been years since they had required that from him. He both missed that and was thankful for it.

They played several old favorites, and then he and Haru made some more headway on a loosely plotted battle game they'd been playing off and on since second year of high school. Nostalgia made up for any lack in the quality of graphics, and the story was still fresh to them -- sometimes to the point of confusion. Part of the fun came from piecing together or making outright guesses about what they all remembered of what had happened before.

He'd left his game system behind in Iwatobi, thinking it might be too distracting, and afraid it was too childish a thing for a serious university student. Now, though, he wanted to take it back with him. Maybe Shuuji and the others could come over for a game night. Maybe, tempted by the familiar games, Haru would even join in a few rounds. He was curious and eager to introduce this piece of his younger life into his new one.

He might need to buy Ran and Ren a replacement, though. He thought he could probably get away with getting them a used one. His siblings might whine and fight and put on childish airs, but they were good kids -- considerate, optimistic, willing to try new things. He was lucky to have them.

The twins might be older now, but apparently the excitement was still too much for them. By ten o' clock, they were dozing off, Ren curled up next to the wall and Ran stubbornly leaning against Makoto's side despite drooping eyelids.

"All right, you two," Makoto decided, when he had to catch Ran from tumbling headfirst to the floor. "Time for bed."

Ren snapped awake and joined his sister's loud protests.

"No more fussing." Makoto put on as stern an expression as he could muster in the face of his two adorably pleading siblings. "We can play more tomorrow."

"But Big Brother, you're leaving in two days!"

"You're falling asleep."

"No, I'm not."

"I saw you sleeping just now."

"Ren was sleeping, but I wasn't."

"Who was it who almost fell off the bed?"

"We haven't gotten to play the Deep Sea Fishing game yet. That's one of my favorites."

"It is not! It's _my_ favorite."

"We can play it tomorrow. Right now, it's bed time."

"But--"

"You should listen to your brother." Haru's deep, quiet voice only momentarily silenced everyone, as the twins' attention immediately zeroed in on him instead.

"Haru-chan! We're awake now, so let's play!"

"It's not fair for you to have Big Brother to yourself _all_ the time."

Haru gave Makoto a helpless look. The accuracy if not the spirit of the argument seemed to flummox his usual implacability. In the end, they agreed to twenty minutes more, after which, still grumbling, Ran and Ren were sent to bed in what was now Ren's room.

Yawning, Makoto lay back on Ran's bed, temporarily his. The sheets and the decorations on the wall, and the books and other objects in the room, were all different. It seemed forever ago that he had lain with Haru in this spot and shared secrets and a promise with him.

Perhaps thinking the same, Haru lay down next to him and put his hand out between them. Smiling, Makoto took it.

They'd never needed words to enjoy each other's company, not when they'd been friends, and not now that they were still friends and also something else.

"I'm glad they brought back the female mouse from the second movie. That was a good reveal, wasn't it?"

Makoto stifled a giggle, not wanting to wake the twins in case they were asleep already. "Yeah. Though I think it was a little bit far-fetched for them to have babies together by the end of the movie."

"They were cute, though."

"Yeah. I bet the next movie will be about that youngest one. He was a real rascal."

"I hope so. Makoto, how many kids do you want?"

"H-Huh?" Haru's matter-of-fact, conversational tone hadn't changed a bit. "I hadn't thought about it."

"You would be a good dad."

"You, too."

"Hm. I'll do my best."

"We still have time."

Were they really talking about the future together as if it were inevitable? Makoto felt a jumble of emotions battling for dominance -- embarrassment, joy, disbelief. He stroked the back of Haru's hand with his thumb. Haru's skin was surprisingly tender here. He felt like a knight who had found a chink in a dragon's armor -- except instead of exploiting it, he would keep it secret and safe.

Staring into Haru's eyes, Makoto let himself imagine a future where he woke up to this every morning.

"You could stay over."

Haru looked indecisive. After a while, he said, "I want to take a bath."

"Oh, I see." Makoto kissed Haru's hand and got up, pulling Haru to his feet, too. "You should go, then. It's getting late."

Haru gave him a long look. "You don't think it's strange?"

"Not really. You only have three more nights here, right?" Makoto was disappointed, but not overly so. Haru had chosen an apartment with a large bathtub in Tokyo, but he no doubt missed the familiarity of the one in the house he'd grown up in. Maybe... Maybe someday they'd live there together, or someplace similar. Makoto didn't feel the need to rush. "We'll see each other all the time in Tokyo."

He was treated to a soft Haru smile.

He walked Haru to the garden gate and watched him until he turned the corner at the top of the stairs. Full of impossibly sappy feelings, he went back to his room at a run and laughed into his pillow.

***

Just as he was about to go to bed, his phone buzzed with a text message.

{ _Can you meet me outside?_ }

Confused and sleepy, and also worried, Makoto got dressed and hurried to the stairs where Haru was waiting for him.

"Is everything all right?"

Haru's posture was slightly tense but not inordinately so. "I'm fine. I just wanted to see you."

The moonlight was weak today, but it was enough to catch a droplet tracing down Haru's left temple. That was enough to dispel any of the number of mushy things Makoto might have said in reply.

"Your hair is wet!" he exclaimed, though quietly in deference to the late hour. Glancing uphill, he noticed that Haru's house was dark. His parents must be asleep. "Have you been in the bath all this time?" Haru's silence bode poorly. Sighing, Makoto said, "Wait." He went back inside and rooted blindly through the hall closet to grab the first hat he found. "Here."

Predictably, Haru refused to wear it, but Makoto persisted. It was much too cold to walk around with damp hair, even for Haru, who did it habitually. Fortunately, it didn't take as long as he'd expected for Haru to give in to his chiding, letting Makoto jam what turned out to be Ran's waterproof rain hat over his head. He grinned at the smiling polar bear face, causing Haru to scowl even further. "Whatever. Let's go," he huffed.

"Go?"

Haru led them up the stairs to the terrace overlooking Makoto's house and the rest of the hillside that formed their cozy neighborhood. They stood, shoulder to shoulder, leaning on the stone pillars that made up the fence. Across the way, the quiet shrine watched over everyone. Below in the middle distance, moonlight glinted off the unfathomably large expanse of the ocean.

In a rare display of affection, Haru put his arm around Makoto's waist and leaned his head on Makoto's shoulder.

Makoto felt a jolt of uneasiness. It was late, and most people would be in bed. Because of its location amidst their houses, however, this terrace was normally only visited by people in their neighborhood. He and Haru had lived here all their lives. Their silhouettes would be familiar. Anyone who happened to look this way would see at least two male figures and quite possibly recognize who they were.

The next moment, Makoto decided that he didn't care. If he and Haru were going to be a couple from now on, it would come out eventually. Maybe some plausibly deniable clues were just what the neighborhood needed to begin to get used to the idea. Maybe Haru was even right, about it being better because everyone already knew them.

He put his own arm around Haru's shoulder, and they looked out at the faintly sparkling waves together. He didn't know why Haru had suddenly wanted to come here with him, but he was glad they had. It was romantic in an understated way that suited the both of them.

"Makoto. I have something to say."

"Hm?"

Gently, Haru disentangled them and rested his hands on a bar in the fencing in front of them. "I'm not a great boyfriend." He stopped Makoto's immediate denial with a touch to his hand. "I'm a _good_ boyfriend, because I love you and I want the best for you. I'm not a great boyfriend, because I can't give you everything you want, and if you ever found someone who could, I wouldn't be willing to let you go."

Makoto still wanted to argue, but he sensed that Haru had prepared more to say. With some effort, he kept quiet and tried to exude encouragement.

"These past two years, I've learned how to live without you. I didn't even realize before, how much I depended on you. I can give you up now, and I think that's good to know. I want you to be free. I want you to make your own choices and be yourself in every way. But I also want you to belong to just me. If someone tries to take you away from me... I'll _fight_ it. I don't care who it is. I don't even care if you want to go, yourself. I would fight you, too, and try to make you agree to stay. That makes me extremely selfish, I guess. Except I think you like that about me, too. So, it's still wrong, but maybe it works for us."

Haru's fingers clutched the metal bar tightly. They must be cold. Makoto took his closest hand and held it to his own cheek. Haru's other hand relaxed.

"I used to think that couples were about finding someone who was perfect for you. Maybe it is that, partly. I think, also, it's about choosing someone who is willing to become better for you. Makoto is thinking of other people all the time. You're happy when other people -- when I'm -- happy. You're a beautiful, kind, hard-working person. Anyone could love you. I think I'm harder to love."

Again, Makoto's instinctive rebuttal was stilled by a squeeze of Haru's hand.

"I'm not being self-deprecating. I just know the truth about myself. I never cared what other people thought about me. I never tried to change myself for anything. I've always been comfortable being myself. I was scared to think about trying to change myself, at first. But I want to be better for Makoto, more than I want to stay the same. I want to be the sort of person that Makoto will always want to be with.

"I want to make you laugh and make you feel as good as you are. I want to celebrate all your successes and all your special days with you. I want you to have the kids and the family that you dream of. I want to cook the food you like. I want to give you the kind of sex that you like. I want to protect you from anything that would hurt you. When I can't do those things, I want you to know that I tried really hard, and I want to be so good to you that you're able to forgive all the times that I'm not. That's... That's all I wanted to say."

For the first time since they'd headed up the stairs, Haru glanced up at him. It was too dark to make out his expression, but the way his eyes caught the moonlight, Makoto saw clearly how they widened for a moment. Haru reached up with his free hand and wiped the tears from Makoto's face.

"I don't want to ever make Makoto cry, unless maybe they're happy tears?"

"They are," Makoto reassured him, softly.

"But not that, too often, either," Haru added, stubbornly. "It's probably not good for you."

Makoto couldn't stay still any longer. He seized his ridiculous, romantic, radiant boyfriend in a hug. "I love you, Haru-chan."

Haru grunted. "Stop adding the -chan."

"But it makes me happy, Haru. Didn't you say you wanted to make me happy in every way?"

"I'm pretty sure that's not how I phrased it."

He slipped his hands under Haru's open jacket to better feel his warmth. "Doesn't matter. I heard what you meant."

Haru leaned into him. His lack of argument spoke for itself.

"I want to say something moving and eloquent like Haru did, but my mind is all blank right now. I'm so filled with love every time I look at you, Haru, or even when I'm just thinking about you. Everything about you makes me happy. Just being with you... I can't imagine anything better. All I want, ever, is for Haru to feel the same way, always. I don't know how to put all that into words."

Haru huffed. "You just did." He sighed. "You're too easily satisfied, Makoto."

Makoto smiled into Haru's jacket. "I disagree."

Haru sighed again, but with a fond kind of tone. "I know. I guess that's good for me."

Still wrapped in each other, they watched the moon drift over their hometown in its silent journey, the same route for countless millennia and yet just slightly different each time. As children, they had played in this town. As teenagers, they had experienced drama and anxiety. As adults now, they looked both cautiously and with surety to the future.

They didn't know what the future would bring, what trials they would have to meet and what challenges they would have to overcome, but they would work hard to make sure that the most important things in their lives would always be with them, from the small things -- mackerel, swimming pools, fish plushies, cats, video games, chocolate -- to the big ones -- medals, diplomas, careers, family, friends, and, ultimately, each other.

After a while, Makoto stirred. He felt warm enough, but he was still worried about Haru's damp hair. "Do you want to go home?"

Haru burrowed closer. "This is good."

"Okay."

  
END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you may have noticed that Haru in this story has Asperger's. It seems obvious to me from watching the series that someone on the writing team for Free! must have experience with someone on the spectrum and based Haru's personality on that, whether or not they knew what it was. While I always keep that in the back of my mind when I'm writing Free! fic, for this story I wrote it explicitly with an Aspie!Haru in mind. Like in the series, I left it undiagnosed and unmentioned, but for representation, I thought I'd make it clear here. :)
> 
> This story took five months to write and three more to edit. As the first novel-length story I've ever managed to complete, it means a lot to me as a writer. Thank you to everyone who read this! Thank you, especially, to those who stuck with it while I was posting and took the time to comment. I've had some truly lovely conversations. I appreciate every one of you.
> 
> Thank you also to the AO3 Writers Facebook group for heroically counting orgasms in the name of fic, and for teaching me how to cuddle, kiss, and smoke.
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you enjoyed this story, you might try these:  
> [The Ocean Is Not My Home](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13253784) (Free!), by kuonji  
> [Inevitable](http://archiveofourown.org/works/14408391) (Free!), by kuonji  
> [Good Eating](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13191771) (Free!), by kuonji  
> [A Walk In The Moonlight, Your Hand In Mind (Cardcaptor Sakura), by kuonji](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13927476)  
> [Someday](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1558646) (Hikaru no Go), by kuonji  
> [Water](http://archiveofourown.org/works/265867) (Stargate SG-1), by kuonji  
> [Everything](http://archiveofourown.org/works/471899) (Starsky & Hutch), by kuonji 
> 
> [When the Bubble Bursts](http://archiveofourown.org/works/15153875) (Free!), by ashkashi  
> [As Always](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3445055) (Free!), by cerasi  
> [I'm Not Broken](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8097268) (Free!), by randomwriter57  
> [Never Ask You to Change (Free!), by SEMellark ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3098951)  
> [Deeper Than Bass](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9768635) (Free!), by tayeah  
> [Touch Me](http://archiveofourown.org/series/437284) (Free!), by Gemmiel  
> [Looking in all the wrong places](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1021378) (Free!), by orphan_account  
> [Five Degrees To The Right](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2510081) (Free!), by Shimegami  
> [Home Port](http://archiveofourown.org/works/939991) (Free!), by Shimegami  
> [Changing Tides](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8055847) (Free!), by ThePumpkinSquee  
> [That MakoHaru Hair-Washing Series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/917484) (Free!), by ax100  
> [Ochazuke](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13421760) (Free!), by AskaRae  
> [With Open Arms](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5129402) (Free!), by thatfruitcake (yusukesjeans)  
> [Redefining Beauty](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4138017) by Cumberbatch Critter (ivelostmyspectacles)  
> [Sleeping Lessons](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12510108) (Free!), by annaslastdalliance  
> [A Little White Lie Never Hurt Anyone](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8169622) (Free!), by OhMyNanase  
> [Close To Home](http://iesika.livejournal.com/77886.html) (Superboy), by iesika 
> 
> [Your Love](http://youtu.be/ktSuQKUyq-w) (Free! video), by iMishaPop  
> [Far Away](http://youtu.be/qY0vZaD5cSQ) (Free! video), by Nightcore  
> [friends](http://youtu.be/bUzVL9QpNFc) (Free! video), by trollstache  
> [Eternal Dream](http://youtu.be/yOnxvJgTd10) (Free! video), by HiikaryLi  
> [50 First Dates](http://youtu.be/u7bu6EsQaNM) (Free! video), by Ko'Lynn
> 
> [Boy of the Water, Boy of the Sky](http://myreadingmanga.info/nattsu-boy-water-boy-sky-free-dj-eng) (Free! doujinshi), by Natsuo Kume - Links to Part 2 and 2.5 at bottom


End file.
